This Is(n't) Acting
by GraeLiars
Summary: "The thing about spending the better part of ten years pretending to love each other is, sometimes, you forget you're pretending." Non-Magical Next Gen AU in which Rose and Scorpius are actors that can't stand each other, but keep getting cast as lovers. Slow (ish) burn. M for language and eventual smut.
1. Prologue

_Wondering why there hasn't been an update on The Thing in ages? Well, this is (at least partially) to blame. A non-magical AU where everyone's famous movie stars instead of famous witches/wizards. I decided to start writing, thinking I'd only be writing a series of one-shots. It would maybe be 10,000 words in total._

 _40,000 words later…._

 _You should know from the get-go that this is basically just a set of one-shots with a recurring theme. I've tried to split them into sections, but mainly they are just a bunch of scenes I had in my head that I wanted to share with you all. And they were all kind of related, so I bundled them together and called it a story. So here it is. Enjoy. Or don't. It's up to you._

 _ **Disclaimer:**_ _I do not own any of the characters you recognise, which I thought would have been pretty darn obvious given it's posted on a site called ._

 _ **Second Disclaimer:**_ _I have no idea how Hollywood works. Big surprise. Who would have guessed that a girl who writes fanfiction in her pjs doesn't now about Hollywood? I haven't even watched Entourage. So if you're an aficionado on how celebrities operate, or are looking at an accurate representation of what it's like to be a celebrity, stop reading now. You won't like this. It's rubbish. But hopefully it's enjoyable rubbish for the rest of you._

* * *

 **Prologue: How Things Began**

" _I lie awake and watch it all, it feels like a thousand eyes."_

 _A Thousand Eyes – Of Monsters and Men_

* * *

It will go down in history as one of the most memorable Oscars moments ever, this car crash that's occurring on stage.

Harry Potter is attempting to receive his well-deserved Academy Award for best lead actor in the critically acclaimed _Order of the Phoenix_ , but there's someone standing in his way.

Draco Malfoy.

Swinging his arms wildly as he ascends the stairs and gestures at the statue, the blonde man is swearing profusely. Security edges their way on stage only to be stopped by Draco when he scowls at them and yells, " _Don't you fucking touch me! I'll sue you fuckers if you come anywhere near me!"_

It's a scandal if ever there was.

Draco and Harry's animosity is well documented; two budding child stars that grew up and took very different paths, they've never seen eye-to-eye. Malfoy called Potter a spoiled brat, Potter said Malfoy was a self-entitled prick. They weren't exactly friendly. Harry stayed the good path, avoided partying, dodged scandals, stayed grounded. Draco was addicted to cocaine by age 13, had burnt most bridges by the age of 16, and had entrusted his wellbeing to people who didn't care for him, as long as he made them money. Harry was vocal of his disapproval of Malfoy's antics; Malfoy was vocal about basically everything Harry Potter (and gang) did.

So when Harry Potter wins the award Draco Malfoy had wholly believed was owed to him, things didn't go well.

Ron Weasley feels the need to intervene, being Harry's best friend and all. He walks up to Malfoy and tells him, in no uncertain terms, to _pull his bloody head in and get off the stage._

And that's when the punches start being thrown.

Malfoy's the first to land a punch, but Weasley recovers quickly and throws one back, connecting with the blonde man's jaw. Draco stumbles – the hit plus the alcohol and other drugs in his system throwing him off balance – but recovers and lunges after Ron again. Hermione Granger marches up to where her husband is brawling with the man she's only met a handful of times and demands he _stop this at once!_ Harry runs in as well, and security eventually gets their shit together and moves towards the group as well.

Malfoy dives towards Weasley, but he manages to step out of the way.

Both men were completely unaware Hermione Granger was standing behind them.

Draco Malfoy tries to pull back too late and tackles Hermione Granger down a set of stairs in front of a room full of the most influential and famous people in the acting world. Gasps and shouts echo throughout the room; Ron Weasley screams hysterically, and Harry Potter dives towards his fallen friend.

Draco Malfoy is dragged from the room by security and leaves the room a disgrace to the entire industry.

In the days following the incident, Hermione Granger files an intervention order, and Ron Weasley is more vocal than ever of his disapproval of drug use. Harry Potter quietly accepts his Oscar but never makes a speech.

The moment is remembered as one of the best/worst moments in Oscars history.

Rose Weasley is nothing but a thought at this stage in time, and Scorpius Malfoy isn't even that, but they will both inherit this moment as the beginning of their relationship.


	2. Act One

**Act One: In Which the Major Players Take the Stage**

" _We are stars, fashioned into flesh and bones. We are islands, excuses to remain alone."_

 _We Are Stars – The Pierces_

* * *

The first time they play lovers is at an elite drama camp when they're both 8 years old (he was _eight and a half_ and had constantly reminded her whenever she tried to tell him to do something differently, apparently outranking her on age). They're performing a modernised version of Snow White at the end of camp concert, she as Snow White, and _him_ as Prince Charming. Which is ridiculous; their chemistry mustn't be convincing at all. Because not only do they barely know each other, but they hate each other – _with a passion._

Or at least as much passion as anyone can hate anything with when they're eight.

But they're both dedicated to their craft and will settle for nothing short of perfection, so when an eight ( _and a half_ ) year old Scorpius Malfoy emphatically declares that he loves her under the harsh stage lights in front of a room full of strangers, Rose Weasley swoons and returns his sentiment, hand clutched to her chest dramatically. They get a standing ovation – because they're outstanding, obviously – and both the Weasley and Malfoy families awkwardly congratulate each other on having such talented children, and manage to completely ignore the elephant in the room that is an outstanding intervention order. Everyone is impressed they don't kill each other.

Scorpius trips Rose over as she leaves the dressing room. She gets him back by lobbing a random shoe at the back of his perfectly blonde head.

* * *

The next time they're forced to play lovers is when they are much older – and _hormone-ier_ – at the Gilderoy Lockhart School of Stagecraft in inner-London.

Rose is only attending for as long as technically required until she gets her offer to Hogwarts, the extremely prestigious dramatic arts college practically all her family had been to. She's not of age yet much to her despair, but Lockhart's takes on juniors so she had applied immediately, willing to do anything to get out of her regular schooling and into something far more suited to her talents. She's eager to learn as much as she can from as many different instructors as possible., even though she knows Lockhart himself was never much of a star (the man was famous for over-the-top, critically-panned, non-stop action movies, for which he didn't do any of his own stunts, and then went on to self-fund his stage productions that were similarly ill-fated with the critics), but there were some actors of note on staff from which she was sure she could learn _something_. She was happy at her new school and the new, interesting people she met as a result.

What Rose wasn't happy about, was becoming re-acquainted with some old, snobby people of her past. Most notably, Scorpius Malfoy.

Ever since declaring their love for one another when they were eight ( _and eight and a half_ ), the two of them had inescapably been in each other's orbit. They attended the same preppy schools (not surprising given their similar backgrounds), and given their shared love of performing, also found themselves at similar extracurricular activities. Not that either of them ever acknowledged it. In fact they both put their inherited acting chops to good use by acting like the other wasn't even there most of the time. Anonymity worked well for them, and they intended to keep it that way.

Gilderoy Lockhart, it would appear, had other intentions.

As a mid-pubescent, very insecure teen, Rose knew she was not leading lady material. Not yet. With her gangly limbs that were always a little off balance, abundance of frizzy red hair she hadn't quite grown into, braces to fix her horrid teeth ( _thanks Granger genes. At least Grandpa put them on free of charge)_ , freckles that didn't appear to know where they were supposed to be littered across her features, and huge blue eyes that looked almost a little alien, Rose new full well she wasn't exactly a Hepburn. And lets not even mention the fact that the breasts that were supposed to be the only plus side of going through these insufferable 'lady days', had apparently missed the memo that she'd been shedding a layer of a large internal organ once a month for the past 3 years and had just decided not to arrive at the party. Jerks.

Despite their wealth and the abundance of professional beauticians and the like available at their command, her mother and father refused her pleas to let her get a makeover. Her mother, the infallible Hermione Granger that looked effortlessly stunning in her older age, was particularly against it, insisting that these awkward years and insecurities built character. The only character Rose thought she was developing was Sideshow Bob – she certainly had the hair for it. Her mother would show her photographs of when she was younger and how painfully awkward she was like it was supposed to be encouraging – like Rose was supposed to see that she was just in the 'ugly duckling' phase of her life and one day she'd be a swan just like her mother. This is exactly not the story it inspired in Rose. Instead she just saw it as confirmation that she was doomed for a good four years or so, maybe more depending on whether the abomination that was the combination of her mother and father's hair decided to calm its goddam farm and become a manageable beast after years of torture.

The point was that Rose never expected herself to be cast as the principle role in anything, at least not until she got to Hogwarts where they valued your actual ability to act over your ability to look good on a poster (that seemed to practically be the motto at Lockhart's – _if the camera loves you, nothing else matters_ ). So imagine her surprise when Mr. Lockhart himself appointed her the lead role in their Dramatic Performance class. The lead female, at least. The lead male role – as if the universe had a personal vendetta against her – went to Scorpius Malfoy.

If there was any undeniable proof that Lockhart was a shit actor – as if his list of movie roles wasn't enough – it could have been found in the not-at-all convincing fake smile of surprise he had when he announced the role ( _"Oh! A Malfoy and a Weasley starring together! Would you look at that! I didn't even realise…_ "). Rose knew he'd done it to try and pry some kind of inherited angst and anger to the surface of their performance. Rose was confident she could rise above such petty rivalries, as she was now, at the ripe old age of fourteen, practically an adult.

Scorpius Malfoy, it turned out, could not.

He sneered at her constantly, rolled his eyes when she asked questions, and critiqued every line she delivered. Unfortunately for him, Rose had inherited her patience from her father. That's to say, she had no goddam patience at all. She snapped at him, he cursed at her, and Lockhart just fluttered in the background making inane comments such as ' _Such chemistry! Such emotion!'_

She really wanted to punch them both.

The scene's conclusion called for what every dramatic scene called for – a kiss between the two star-crossed lovers. Rose wanted to vomit. She'd never kissed someone before in her life (the closest she'd got was with her 3rd grade 'boyfriend' when he kissed her on the cheek once, and then promptly broke up with her two weeks later), and she _did not_ want to share this moment with Scrotum-puss Malfoy.

But if she said something, then he would know. And Rose would sooner lose all her teeth via consecutive root canals than let Scorpius Malfoy know she'd never kissed anyone before. She wished she could barf on cue, just throw up her lunch to be able to give a good enough excuse not to go through with this scene that didn't involve the phrase, " _Because Scorpius Malfoy is a twat and I don't want to kiss a twat."_

On the other hand, serious actresses probably had to kiss people they didn't like all the time. They just learnt how to hide their disgust.

Rose decided it was time for her to develop that skill too.

Scorpius leans in, as the scene called for, and Rose tensed so hard in every muscle of her body that she actually stopped breathing for a period of time. She did absolutely nothing beyond the bare minimum, puckering her lips and not moving an inch until after he'd kissed her and pulled away.

Scorpius, for what it was worth, did actually try to coax her to kiss him properly, one hand clutching her head as he pressed his lips to hers.

And to be perfectly honest, she might have kissed him back if she had even the foggiest idea how one did that. Being too afraid to make an ass of herself in front of her entire class, Rose managed to do just that by being as passionate as a dead seal. Scorpius pulled back, Lockhart called cut, and the students applauded and sniggered in equal measure.

"Jesus, Weasley, that was terrible," Scrotum-Puss muttered at her and she honestly wasn't sure if he was talking about her kissing ability or her acting ability. She wasn't sure which would be worse..

"I'd get a better snog from my aunt's armpit."

He walked off with a cruel sneer and Rose stood there stunned for a few minutes before finding her seat and trying to turn invisible.

When she gets home at the end of the day she cries a lot. She knows he's just a silly boy who isn't worth her tears, but that doesn't make it stop hurting.

She asks to transfer out of the class the very next day and pretends she doesn't see the way he smirks at her down the hallway.

* * *

Rose's Hogwarts experience was not all that she was desperately hoping for it to be. Rose thought she would walk in and finally be welcomed by like-minded peers that valued talent over looks.

They did. Rose just wasn't particularly talented.

The place was full of brilliant people who, even at a young age, had worked on perfecting their craft and nearly everyone had at least one screen credit or three ads under their belt. Rose had none of that, and if she said she didn't curse both her parents for putting her in that position she'd be a liar.

Rose felt woefully out of her depth, and realised her teachers expected her to show more than just her mother's gaze or her father's smile to get her by. Rose was thankful for this – she wanted to be seen as more than just Hermione and Ron Weasley's daughter – but soon found out that she didn't really have much else. They'd ask her to portray more depth, yet she felt she was basically on the ocean floor and it still wasn't deep enough. She over-analysed any activity to the point of ruining her performance by getting hung up on a minute detail, and her marks reflected as such. She became incredibly accustomed to feeling embarrassed and ashamed.

It didn't help that in the one class she had with him, Scorpius Malfoy managed to excel. It only made her hate him more.

Rose spent hours pouring over scripts and practicing her lines a million different ways that words didn't even sound like words anymore, they just sounded like sounds. It was like hearing herself speak in a foreign language – she didn't understand a damn thing.

When her parents ask how she's doing at school she lies through her teeth and tells them she's having a ball. She quietly frets that she's ruining their legacy.

She's a disgrace, but she will keep trying. She won't let this break her.

* * *

To her great luck, it turned out that major designers and fashion houses rather liked the 'gangly, androgynous body' look currently, so Rose was able to land a couple of modelling jobs throughout Europe in between semesters at Hogwarts. It wasn't her love – not by a long shot – but they did things like give her a 'Walking Coach' ( _good bye uncoordinated foal, hello graceful stead!)_ , and made her feel somewhat attractive which was more than a little bit of a confidence boost. She was never in anything very sexy, but it paid her bills and made her feel a bit independent.

When her manager starts telling her she wouldn't get booked unless she lost at least 10 pounds off her already lithe frame, Rose puts her foot down and tells him that he could, very kindly, fuck right off. She also told him to pass it onto anyone else who felt like telling a girl her age and size to loose a couple of pounds.

Her mother tells her she's never been so proud of her.

It might have been firing her manager, it might have been learning to walk confidently, or it might have been the fact that her boobs finally decided to appear on her chest ( _YOU TOOK YOUR GODDAM TIME YOU CRAZY TA-TAS!)_ , but Rose returned to her final year of Hogwarts feeling more comfortable in her own skin and more confident in her abilities. It showed in every area of her study - she got more praise on her performances, brought more depth to her characters, and finally felt like she belonged at this school off her own merit, not just that of her parents.

"Well Weasley I'm shocked," comes the bored drawl of her nemesis, "That wasn't completely awful."

Scorpius is talking about her Acting and Performance solo production wherein they had to perform a play as a background character. She'd chosen to portray the barricade from _Les Miserables_ , because she wanted to challenge herself and do something she doubted her teacher had ever seen before. She contorted her body as she walked the stage, spoke of not understanding why she was dividing people, that she didn't understand this war. It was obscure, but Rose thought it worked. Rose's decision had been right and she'd blown them all away.

Basically, she'd done bloody better than ' _wasn't completely awful.'_

"Fuck off, Malfoy."

She swings her bag over her shoulder and walks out of the classroom with her shoulders back and head held high. She's not going to let him get to her anymore. She's outgrown him.

* * *

The first time he tries to talk to her as anything other than an adversary she blows him off and turns her back on him. That's the last time he'll make an offer of friendship to Rose Weasley.

* * *

The world finally starts to take proper notice of Rose when she does a photo shoot with her mother. It's the first time she's ever seen her mum anywhere close to nervous, not that anyone on set realises. Hermione Granger is, as always, the epitome of grace and elegance, but Rose can see in the little twitches her hand makes, how she keeps going to touch her hair, that her mother is actually a little uncomfortable getting in front of the camera again. Rose doesn't understand why – her mother remains one of the most beautiful people alive (even the tabloids say so!) and if ageing has done anything, its softened her and made her even more radiant.

Rose sorely hoped that gene got passed along, although she had a sneaking suspicion that might just be some freakish mutation her mother cooked up from inside her soul, so it's not likely going to find it's way to Rose. With her luck, she's more likely to get her father's receding hairline.

The shoot starts, both of them in Burberry coats that cost almost as much as a year of Rose's college tuition, and everything falls into place. Hermione smiles openly and laughs gracefully with the crew; Rose manages to not look like an awkward giraffe, so it's a good shoot all round.

The advert goes out about three months later and the photos are stunning. Hermione Granger steals the lime light because she's Hermione Granger and stars would be dulled by her light, but Rose manages to look pretty decent too. She gets asked to do a few interviews, gets more offers for photo shoots from other major designers, and her manager has more contact from casting agencies.

 _This could be it_ , she thinks, _this is how things get better_.

* * *

Even though _Rose Weasley_ isn't registered in the Screen Actor's Guild, she decides last minute to make a slight adjustment.

"Rose Granger-Weasley _?_ " her mother asks from the other end of the phone, "What made you change your mind?"

"I don't know," she replied with a shrug as she walks down Rodeo Drive, a complete nobody that blends in with the tourists, "It just felt right."

"Well," she can hear her mother's smile, "I like it."

It's what she'll be credited as for the rest of her career. It makes her feel like she's able to separate the two – Rose Granger-Weasley will be the Hollywood starlet, Rose Weasley is the girl you bump into at the supermarket.

Yes, this feels right.

* * *

The next time their paths cross is at the absolute worst moment – when Rose is getting her big break.

After years of doing off-Broadway shows in tiny theatres, guest supporting roles on TV shows, or bit pieces in some not-so-great films, she has finally landed the role that she is sure is going to catapult her to the next level.

 _A Kingdom of Cowards_ was written by her family-friend Lysander Scamander. It's the tale of a powerful witch and wizard from duelling families who fall in love against everyone's wishes, even their own. In a dystopian future where magic is outlawed, they're destined to either save the kingdom or tear it apart, all while duelling with their own feelings and whether to follow their hearts or their families' wishes.

Ok, so it sounds like some young adult romance/drama tripe, and honestly that is exactly what it is. But it's the best of all the young adult romance/drama tripe being made. It's not going to win anyone an Oscar, but if she walks away with a Teen Choice Award or two, well, that just might be ok (being such an unpopular teen herself, the thought of winning what was essentially a popularity contest would actually be kind of gratifying).

Rose has been cast as Allegra, the 'plain-girl-whose-actually-beautiful-but-doesn't-realise-it-and-is-crazy-powerful-but-inexplicably-thinks-she's-a-failure'. She is currently sitting in a room waiting to be joined by potential Elijah's, the 'alluring-bad-boy-who-never-smiles-and-is-drawn-to-her-immediately-but-they're-supposed-to-hate-each-other-but-they-just-can't-because-he's-the-only-one-who-realises-she's-special'. As she said, it was YA tripe, but the script had some good lines, the tones were actually pretty good, and the characters – as textbook as they were – got opportunities to develop across the two-hour time frame. She could be doing a lot worse.

Rose recognises a few of the guys from Hogwarts (a lot of them seem to be overly friendly with her, acting like they've been buddies for years to help get them the role. It never works), sees a few guys that although she's never met she's familiar with, some she recognises from the theatre circuit, and some straight up strangers. She reads the same passage – which concludes with a dramatic kiss – over and over again with each new non-Elijah that walks in and out again. There are a few that that quite literally make her swoon they're so pretty. She discovers very quickly that pretty doesn't always mean quality and, by the end of the morning, the prettier the man, the lower her expectations. They're not even particularly good kissers, let alone good actors.

The casting panel adjourns for a few moments to get fresh coffees and cups of teas while discussing how disappointing the morning's auditions have been, Rose assumes. She can tell there hasn't been much there between her and her proposed beaus. Maybe this wouldn't be her big break after all. Maybe she's the problem. Maybe she just has no chemistry with anyone. Maybe they'll cut her in favour of some beautiful blonde who can flirt and connect with everyone they meet.

Ok, she needs some air.

Rose leaves the room under the pretence of grabbing a coffee, trying to amp herself up for the next run of reads. And she walks straight into Lucifer.

Standing there in the hallway, script in hand and eyes focused on its contents, is none other than Scorpius Malfoy.

It takes a moment for her brain to fully process what she's seeing. He's wearing what she's sure was an obnoxiously expensive white t-shirt under a black leather jacket with dark jeans and just looks plain old _weird_ because it's definitely not the preen and polished Malfoy she's used to; he's clearly dressed for Elijah. Even if her brain can't process it, her mouth, however, seems to register straight away and fires completely without warning.

"What the fuck?"

Scorpius' attention snaps to her, his hair barely moving with the motion, indicating that although he's aimed for the 'rugged and carefree' look, there is a lot of product holding his perfect coif in place. His eyes widen fractionally before his face falls into the scowl she's become so accustomed to.

"Weasley," he straightens to make sure he towers over her even further, "Fancy seeing you here. Assisting with catering?"

She ignores his barb and gets back to the point at hand – being insulted with his existence.

"What are _you_ doing here?!" she squares up to him, refusing to be intimidated by his superior height, "Don't tell me you're auditioning for Elijah."

"Well why else would I be here, love?" he somehow has the ability to turn the pet name into something condescending. She doesn't appreciate it.

"I don't know, maybe to pick up someone's dry cleaning," it's a half-assed insult and she knows it. Malfoy has the audacity to call her on it.

"Oh come on darling, surely you can do better than that."

Rose bristles, tries to get the upper-hand in their verbal dispute. "Don't call me darling."

"I just can't help it," condescension and sarcasm basically exploded from his pores, "You're so alluring and attractive."

"Just like your personality," she spat back at him. There was something about Scorpius Malfoy that made her regress several years into an immature brat. She supposed she was just mirroring him and coming down to his level.

The insult slides off his shoulders ( _probably because he was the human incarnation of an oil slick)_ as he opens his mouth to reply before pausing, assessing her and the door she appeared from critically.

"Wait," he lets out a pained sigh, "Allegra."

It's a statement rather than a question, and even though Rose knows she probably won't be after this morning's reads, she doesn't see why he needs to know that.

"Yep!" she answers far more confidently than she feels, "So you may as well leave now."

"Why?" Scorpius takes another step towards her so she's really craning her head to look up at him, "Don't think I can pretend to love you? Unlike you, _Sweetums_ , I can actually act."

"Ha!" again, she displays more bravado than she feels, "You can't even make me believe you're comfortable in that outfit, let alone convince millions you're in love with me."

"To my credit you are asking a near impossible task," a too-sharp smile lights up his face as he leans closer, " _For who could ever learn to love a beast_?"

Rose has to stop herself from physically attacking him as her stomach drops and she is overcome by the urge to vomit. She thought she was over taking name-calling personally. Turns out she's not. She grits her teeth, steps into his space, bringing their faces even closer, and does her best not to notice how nice his aftershave is. ( _Expensive, that's what it smells like)_

"I hate you," she growls through gritted teeth. He shifts closer and they're barely a breath apart. It doesn't scare her, not like it used to.

"The feeling is mutual, Darling," his voice is a gravely murmur.

" _Stop_ calling me Darling."

"Make me."

"A-hem."

The clearing of a throat brings them both back to the present. It's a presence Rose has come to recognise – Beryll Merkoff, casting director. She's all liposuctioned features and power-suits, and Rose would be lying if she said she didn't find the older woman intimidating. Rose and Scorpius turn to see her eyeing them critically, but not unhappily. Rose notes that they're still very close. That probably doesn't look good. She steps back and, taking her cue, Scorpius does also.

"You're the next Elijah?" Beryll says it with so little inflection that one might find it difficult to tell if it was a question or a statement. Scorpius nods.

"Yes ma'am," he extends a hand to shake, "Scorpius Malfoy."

Beryll does not take his offered hand and instead quirks an eyebrow.

"Malfoy?"

Scorpius coyly withdraws his hand and Rose can see him tensing. They already don't like him. Good.

"Yes." Rose can hear the challenge in his tone. Beryll lets out an uninterested hum.

"You look a lot like your father."

Rose looks at him out of the corner of her eye and catches the way his jaw tightens.

"Yes." There's challenge in his voice again and Rose feels her own anger subside as she sees him squirm. After all the years he's bullied her it's nice to see him get a bit of his own back.

Beryll turns and returns to the room they're holding they're auditions in, calling, "Let's get going."

Rose follows first while Scorpius smoothed his impeccable hair before following. They stand beside one another and recite the lines when given their cue.

Rose puts a lot into it, partly to try and redeems herself from this morning's terrible run of reads, partly to show Malfoy she's actually good at this shit. Malfoy, as much as she hates to admit it, meets her challenge and reacts brilliantly. The dialogue actually sounds impassioned instead of corny for the first time that day and Rose feels herself getting lost in the drama of it all.

His voice is cold and she compensates by being loud. He meets her, yells about how unfair it all is. She cries – actually cries – as she exclaims she never wanted this either. His hair falls out of it's styled perfection when he turns violently to face her, exclaims that it's her fault for making it impossible for him not to love her. She's so involved in the scene that when he kisses her suddenly (as directed in the script) it actually takes her by surprise. She trips backwards but he catches her, pulls her close and holds her tight. Rose feels herself clutching at his shirt and kissing him back with anger thinly veiled as passion. Her hand holds his face and when he pulls back from her their foreheads rest against each other as they catch their breath. The scene ends and Scorpius is dismissed.

Rose has a sinking feeling as he walks away. He was really good. _They_ were really good. And when she hears the panel murmur something about " _chemistry we've been looking for"_ she knows the unfortunate truth – they just found their Elijah.

* * *

She gets the confirmation from her agent about a week later.

"You've got an Elijah," Graham says excitedly, "Pre-production will start in 3 weeks!"

"What's his name?" Rose knows what's coming, but thinks maybe she's wrong. _She really hopes she's wrong._

"He's a freshie, mostly done West End stuff, kid from Hogwarts, you probably know him," Graham shuffles papers like he doesn't know the name off the top of his head. Like not everyone in the world knows the Malfoys, "Ah, that's right! Scorpius Malfoy."

Rose's stomach sinks and her throat begins to tighten.

"Great."

Her big break was coming at a cost. She was already fairly sure it wasn't worth it.

* * *

The studio assign Rose a 'handler'. Her name is Kitty. She's a 5'2 Vietnamese-American woman who gives the distinct impression that, even though she's wearing a pencil skirt Rose isn't sure how she breathes in and heels that could take out a man's eye, she could still kick your ass.

"Hi," Rose waves awkwardly and internally cringes, "I'm Rose."

"I'm aware," the woman says with a nod, offering a hand to shake (because that's what adults do, they shake hands, not wave awkwardly), "Kitty Pham. I'll be your handler."

"Right. What does a handler do?"

"We handle things."

"Right."

Kitty pulls out her phone and starts informing her of all the appointments she's set up or cancelled for Rose for the next three weeks. Rose likes having Kitty in her corner.

* * *

He's assigned a 'handler' called Maxwell. The man's an abrasive asshole who swears in every sentence and drinks whiskey before noon.

He's a shark, and exactly what Scorpius needs.

"So, you're the new Malfoy right?" he doesn't give Scorpius a chance to reply, "Here's the deal – you can drink within reason but if I ever suspect you of taking any illicit substances I will have your motherfucking ass in rehab the second after I shove my foot up it. We clear?"

Scorpius bristles at the implications.

"I'm not a user," he growls at the man in front of him. Maxwell is completely unperturbed.

"I know you're not now. But people are going to try to make you start. And I'm telling you right now, no matter how persuasive they might appear, no one on Earth is more persuasive than my ass-submerged foot. Comprendo?"

"Comprendo," Scorpius hears the bite in his tone and makes no attempt to disguise it, "Did they assign you to me because they assume I'm an addict?"

"No," Maxwell looks Scorpius in the eye as he points at him, "They assigned you to me because the best deserves the best. So you better prove you're worthy of my portfolio."

Scorpius smiles, "You're a cocky bastard, aren't you Maxwell?"

"That's what my wife says. Now, let's discuss your contract."

Scorpius is glad they gave him Maxwell.

* * *

The first table read goes better than she had expected, although Scorpius does make a point of refusing to say his line whenever she somewhat _slightly_ misquotes the script. He'll not even look at her, just continues looking at the script and says " _That wasn't right."_ The director doesn't seem to care but Scorpius does. Luckily Rose knows most of her lines so it doesn't happen too often, but every time it does Rose has to bite her tongue to prevent swearing at him.

So all-in-all, not horrible.

* * *

He's sitting next to Rose in the table read. He can smell her perfume. It's tasteful. Delectable. Incredibly inconsiderate of her to have good taste in perfume. He'll think of her whenever he smells it now.

She fumbles over her line and he calls her on it, hopeful she can't see his hand shaking under the table.

He needs this.

He needs this so badly it hurts.

* * *

There's lots of green screen for the fight scenes that takes Rose a while to get used to. And when she says 'get used to' she means it takes her some time to adjust to not laughing when they throw her into a crash mat.

The first time it's because it's so unexpected. She says her line, and the evil villainess Merida (played by an actress called Fiona Thumbstruck who is stunningly beautiful but Rose is absolutely not allowed to talk to her – no one but her handler is, in fact – so she really doesn't get a good vibe from her) retorts by 'whooshing' her across the set with her 'magic' – played here by wires and smoke. The sound of wires shifting comes seconds before Rose is pulled up into the air and catapulted back into a big squishy landing pad a good 12 feet away. She explodes into giggles the second she realizes she hasn't broken anything

"That was amazing!" she says, looking to the director, a middle-age highly strung guy called Hastings (one word name, like Madonna) who, thankfully, looks amused at her wonderment, "Can we do it again?"

"Well we're going to have to – try not to look like you're enjoying yourself as you're flying to your doom, will you Rose?" his reply is well-meaning and sweet. Probably because it's take one on the first day of physical effects work so he's not sick of her yet. Rose is very mindful that the good-naturedness will run out if she doesn't pull her shit together. Which she vows to do, after this take.

Scorpius is on set as he's supposed to be fighting by her side even though Merida is – technically – his aunt (oh the angst of Elijah!). Rose is reset in position as they sort out the wires and adjust the lighting appropriately. She's still giggling when one of the makeup girls, Elka, retouches her hairline.

"How are you finding this funny?" she asks with a smile whilst critically assessing Rose's skin.

"I'm getting paid to be thrown into a crash mat. I'm living the dream!"

Elka smiles and laughs with her for a moment.

Right before his Lordship of Duckdick interrupts.

"Are you done?" he snaps, making Elka jump. She hurries off the sound stage and Rose glares at him. She wants to say something but he beats her to it.

"This isn't school, Wealsey," he mutters at her, clearly unimpressed with her giggling and, heaven forbid, having fun, "Can't you at least _try_ to be professional?"

Rose rolls her eyes so hard she almost has a seizure.

"Jesus Christ Malfoy, lighten up!" she looks at him where he stands, make up and hair done so he appears to have walked through flames (also Merida's doing), "If you take everything so seriously you'll give yourself a hernia."

"This isn't pretending anymore Weasley!" he exclaims quietly, being mindful not to draw any unnecessary attention to them, "This is real life."

She lets out one sharp, humorless laugh. "We're on a goddam movie set. Pretending is literally all that happens here. Nothing about what we've done has been 'real life' since before high school."

Hastings calls for silence on set to reshoot the scene, and Rose prepares to be flung across the stage again. She doesn't see how Scorpius takes an extra moment to settle himself.

* * *

His face is thunder and he knows it. Lucky they're shooting a fight scene – at least this way he can sell it as part of his character.

Rose doesn't consider this real life. But that's where she's wrong – this isn't just real life, this is all there is for him.

So she better pull her shit together, because he won't throw away his only shot of redeeming this family's name because Rose fucking Weasley can't be bothered to deliver her best.

* * *

Scorpius and Rose cross paths as he leaves makeup, his bare torso painted with fake scars and abrasions.

They barely acknowledge each other, which is just the way Rose likes it.

Elka watches him as he leaves.

"I could work on that body all day," she says to Rose with a dramatic sigh, "I only wish there was a need to paint scars on his ass."

Rose, ever the adult, replies with an eloquent, "Ew."

"Seriously?" Elka starts assembling different utensils as Rose sits in the chair, "Have you not noticed how beautiful that man is?"

Honestly? No. Rose has never found Scorpius Malfoy attractive. His overwhelmingly ugly personality always overshadowed his face. That doesn't mean she can't see what casting directors see in him. From a purely objective standpoint, she can see why other people might find him attractive – with his broad shoulders, lean build, grey-blue eyes and angular facial features, he had 'Hollywood Heartthrob' written all over him.

Having known him since she was eight, however, Rose viewed him in a more realistic manner. She doesn't see his smile, only his ugly sneer. Doesn't hear his wit, only his biting insults. Scorpius is ugly right in his soul, and Rose sees that more than anything else.

"I did notice once," Rose shrugs, "And then he spoke."

Elka laughs and it sounds dainty and musical, "Maybe we can sew his mouth shut?"

"Or just chop off his head."

The other woman lets out a dramatic gasp, "And get rid of those eyes and cheekbones?! No way!"

Rose shivers, feeling dirty talking about her costar in such a way, "Can we change the subject please? If we keep talking about Scorpius I'm gunna barf."

Elka just laughs again, before thankfully changing the subject to much more critical matters – what's on the menu for lunch. Rose is thankful for the change – the less time spent acknowledging Scorpius Malfoy's existence, the better.

* * *

They're shooting at a mansion on location in England – some county called Berkshire – and it is stunning. Everyone's in a better mood then when they're on the sound stage because it's pretty impossible to be grumpy when such beauty surrounds you.

There are far worse places to shoot scenes.

The scene they've got today is shot at night, and the sky is clear which is bloody fortuitous. It's the big finale, and Rose's character AlLegra is struggling to control her magic, so Elijah helps her in the only way he knows how – he kisses her.

Yeah, Rose has been kind of dreading this scene basically all shoot.

It helps that it's not romantic in the slightest. The giant fans are assaulting her from every angle, creating the effect the magic to be added in post-production is supposedly having on the surroundings. She's in a ball gown (because of _course_ the confrontation happens after their school prom) that has been specifically designed to catch the breeze and just kind of fly. The issue being, the general direction it flies in is 'up', so Rose finds herself expelling a lot of energy on resisting the urge to hold the many layers of her skirt down lest she give the crew a view they certainly aren't entitled to. There's a call for additional hair and make up every two minutes (see: fans) and Hastings is so pedantic about getting the kiss scene _just right_ that they have to do it roughly 20 times.

Yup, she's kissed Scorpius Malfoy 20 times today. Today has not been awesome.

" _I can't do it!" Allegra cries, hair whipping her face as Merida's magic gets stronger, "I can't control it!"_

" _Yes you can Allegra!" Elijah yells over the wind, his hands clutching hers, "Focus on how you feel."_

" _But I can't! She's too strong, and I…I…"_

 _Elijah grabs Allegra's face and kisses her which all the passion he can manage. He brings her back to herself – back to her magic – and with him holding her close, Allegra can finally find the strength and focus she needs to blast Merida away._

She knows the scene calls for it, but if she didn't know better, Rose would say he's holding her tighter than strictly required. He pulls away slightly – probably to tell her she's a horrible kisser, _again_ – and they get told to hold their positions.

"It's a great promo shot!" someone shouts before coming in with a camera. Rose tries to focus on not looking angry at him, and instead puts herself back into the mindset of a loved-up Allegra who is able to conquer dragons because of the man with his arms around her. She gets wrapped up in it, imagines being a teenager so desperately in love that you felt you could take on the world and win.

She wraps her arms around him tighter and closes her eyes. Rose tilts her head forward minutely, rests her forward against his lips. Scorpius responds, the touch of his lips transforming into a definite, soft kiss, his hands more relaxed where they rest at the base of her neck.

"Yes! Perfect! Hold that!"

Once the camera has captured a number of shots they're allowed to break apart. Rose leans back, can't stop herself from looking up at Scorpius where he stands above her. She finds him looking at her curiously, his hands still framing her face.

And without a word he steps away and heads back to his starting mark to reset the scene.

The take immediately after the photo op is the best they've done and everyone decides they don't need another.

Scorpius doesn't talk to her – doesn't critique her, doesn't remind her to have her lines memorized for tomorrow, doesn't make a jab about her hair – he just walks back to his trailer in silence.

It's a definite improvement.

* * *

With her infinitesimal movement Scorpius feels his shoulders relax, feels himself slipping into Elijah's skin more than his own. She's Allegra and he will protect her no matter what. She is his light and his life.

Then he smells her perfume and remembers its Rose Weasley who's pushed her forehead to his lips. It's Rose Weasley in his arms. And it's Rose Weasley who's managed to not fuck up her lines all day.

Maybe she gets this after all. Maybe.

* * *

Stop the presses.

Veronica Lee is in the room and Rose just can't.

Like she just can't. Not even in the slightest. She is a big old ball of nope. There is no way in hell that she can share the same space with a Victoria's Secret model and not feel like an elephant. Nope. Nope. Nooooope.

They're shooting some promotional material and 'behind the scenes' specials to screen in the lead up to the film's release. It was supposed to be low-key, no big deal, no real acting, and now it's just going to be the day that Veronica Lee is here and Rose cannot breathe.

Rose watches as Veronica, and someone she assumes is her agent, walks up to Scorpius. And then Veronica Lee kisses Scorpius Malfoy.

 _Why the frick was Veronica Lee kissing Scorpius Malfoy?!_

Maxwell, Scorpius' pit-bull-disguised-as-a-human handler, shakes Veronica and her agent's hand before presenting them with paperwork. The group of them all stands around and flick through pages for a few minutes before smiling and laughing and shaking hands again.

Or in Scorpius and Veronica's case, kissing. Again.

And then she just leaves. Just like that. Here one moment, gone the next. Rose watches as the embodiment of perfection that is Veronica Lee walks out of the building like it's a catwalk, commanding everyone's attention with every step.

Rose feels like she can finally let out her stomach that she'd been subconsciously holding in for the entirety of the woman's visit.

She manages to hold out an entire two and a half seconds before accosting Scorpius.

"That was Veronica Lee," she says rather stupidly. Scorpius, who's sitting in a chair reading some novel she doesn't even think is in English, doesn't even look at her.

"Yes."

 _Please, be less helpful._

"What was she doing on set?" _and why in god's holy name was she kissing you? (_ Next time she's here Rose will slip her a note telling her to blink twice if she needs saving, just in case he's got her under some weird mind control spell or blackmailing her or something).

"We're dating," he says it with absolutely no inflection and Rose can't tell if he's joking or not. It would explain the kissing. But also _why the fuck would the infallible Veronica Lee lower her standards to Scorpius Malfoy_

"Really?" she chokes out.

"Really," he continues to be entirely emotionless. She's pretty sure he's deliberately doing that to mess with her.

Rose knows it's none of her business. Scorpius can date whomever he likes. He's an adult (in the most technical sense - he still acts like a child). But also, if there's going to be a Victoria's Secret model walking the red carpet at Rose's first ever major film premiere than she needs to start planning how she'll handle that.

 _Like buying enough garbage bags to make a dress out of, because that's what she is compared to Veronica Lee – a warm pile of week-old garbage._

"Well is she going to be at the premiere?" Rose notes how her voice goes high and sounds a little erratic but she can't help it.

"Depends," he finally closes the book and looks at her, simultaneously bored and annoyed, "If they manage to make the May release, then yes. If it gets pushed back to July, then no."

"What's happening in July?"

"We're breaking up."

He's so blasé about it that Rose thinks he might be joking.

She chokes out a humourless laugh, "You're breaking up?"

"Yes," he's looking at her like she's daft. She's probably looking at him with the same expression.

"What, already got it penciled into your diary?" She's too sarcastic for her own good. She did not get a response she was expecting.

"Yes."

Rose blinks at him for a few moments as she tries to process what he's saying. Surely he's messing with her.

"Excuse me?"

"We're breaking up on July 1st," he shrugs and explains the details clinically, "It will be amiable, we'll site busy schedules as getting in the way of our romance, and we'll call it a day."

Rose stares at him stupidly for several minutes.

"You're not joking are you," she looks for any sign he's trying to pull one over on her, "You've actually planned out your break up?"

"Planned the entire relationship actually." He sounds ridiculously proud of himself. Rose doesn't understand.

"Well what if one of you doesn't want to break up?"

He gives a quick shake of his head, "Break up is not negotiable."

He sounds like a fucking robot.

"You say it like it's some kind of contract."

He gives her _A Look._ She registers what it means.

" _You have a contract?!"_ she definitely said that louder than she should have. All he does is give her one sharp nod.

"It's incredibly efficient, I'll get Maxwell to draft you one if you like."

"No I would not like!" Rose is flustered and throws her arms in the air, "You can't manufacture a romance like that!"

Scorpius rolls his eyes and lets out a tired sigh. Right, like she's the ridiculous one for not having a contract for the conditions of loving someone.

"This is Hollywood, Weasley," he's incredibly condescending, "Any romance here is as real as the one between you and I. There's nothing that lights, cameras, and a script can't convince people to believe."

Something in Rose's heart sinks. She doesn't want to believe him. She doesn't want to believe that love is just something that's cooked up by studios to build a star's popularity. She wants to believe in true love and romance and all the wonderful things her parents have.

"I think that's the saddest thing I've heard all day."

Another lazy shrug, "It's good business."

"Loving someone isn't business," Rose's voice comes out quiet and defeated. Scorpius scoffs and raises an eyebrow.

"Who said anything about love?"

Rose walks away before he makes her more sad and depressed.

* * *

Scorpius is a total grump in every interview she sees him do by himself. He's a grump in the interviews she does with him too, but at least her shining personality can make up for it a lot of the time. He responds with the absolute least amount of effort required to any questions he's asked.

For example, this was an actual exchange he had with a journalist from Denmark:

 _Journalist: So, Scorpius, what was it like to film your first big film?_

 _Scorpius: Good._

Rose would kick him in the shin if she thought she could get away with it unnoticed.

"Jesus, you could at least _try_ to be likable," she comments as they break for lunch. He scoffs and rolls his eyes.

"I'm not here to be liked." Now it's her turn to scoff, blurting out an unattractive snort as she drinks her coffee.

"Neither was your dad – didn't work well for him did it?"

He scowls at her, but after enduring that look or similar for close to 10 years now, she's practically immune. She knows the main reason he's angry at her is because he knows that she's right – if he burns too many bridges in this town he'll never get hired again. He may want to be an actor that works on his "craft" and hates the concept of celebrity, but the reality is he isn't a big enough name yet to be mean to people. He's going to have to be likable to draw a crowd. And these days, drawing a crowd to a film is the main thing that matters.

They sit down for their next interview – with the same brain-numbing questions as all the others that have come before – and when the interviewer says hello to them both Scorpius actually smiles and asks how she is. Rose almost chokes on her own spit in surprise. It's a much nicer interview and Rose is grateful that she doesn't have to work so hard to brighten the mood anymore.

* * *

She has no right to compare him to his father – she knows nothing about his father except that one stupid clip from a lifetime ago.

But then he remembers Draco's shaking hands, his mother packing a suitcase and telling Scorpius to gather his clothes, of spending summers at Aunt Daphne's whilst his father went ' _upstate_ ' for a while.

His father never got over not being loved.

He won't become his father, but not because she said so. He won't become his father because he owes it to his family to be different.

So he pastes on a smile and pretends to enjoy this. It's the only way he'll make it out alive.

* * *

They green light two sequels after _Kingdom of Cowards'_ stellar opening weekend. Rose has never hated success with such passion.

* * *

If they wanted her to be anything other than hostile they should have told him to keep his judgments to himself.

Rose and Scorpius had managed to be almost civil for the last few weeks of shooting _Kingdom_. Which means they consciously avoided each other between takes so they couldn't piss each other off. It worked.

Right up until it didn't.

They'd been at one of those lavish parties where you recognize everyone's faces but no one really knows why they're there or what they did to warrant an invitation. There's models and movie stars, singers and socialites, billionaires and barons. It's an odd mix of people that, collectively, have absolutely nothing in common besides proximity and being a celebrity (and even that was contentious for some people. Like Rose, for example). She'd gone anyway, very conscious that doing these sorts of things – attending parties with famous people, socializing with people who you would otherwise only see on magazine covers – was how you made it in this town.

Turns out King of the Cocksnots apparently got an invite too.

It's been a while since she'd seen him out of Elijah-mode, so it takes her a moment to recognise him when he waltzes into the room in a dark navy Tom Ford peacoat, tailored dark jeans and shoes that she would be willing to bet cost more than her entire outfit combined. His hair isn't the fashionably scruffy mess it usually is on set, and is instead swept back away from his face in a way that is anything but scruffy.

He makes eye contact with her across the room and Rose thinks he might actually be magnanimous and save her from the awkwardness of standing in a room of strangers.

His face is expressionless as he deliberately turns in the opposite direction and walks into the crowd, leaving her stranded.

What an asshole.

Rose reconciles that it's not technically his duty to save her from awkward situations. Not _technically_. But that would be the nice fucking thing to do, now wouldn't it? Which is probably exactly why Scorpius didn't do it. Because he isn't nice. Because he's an asshole. Because he's a permanent pain in her ass that she really wants to just disappear from her life forever.

She makes awkward small talk with the people around her as she tries desperately to convince everyone – herself included – that she's earned her spot at this event, whatever it is.

Rose turns to the only vice that gives her confidence in times like these – she drinks some wine. And it's really nice, so she drinks some more. And then people start just kind of putting drinks in her hands and she drinks those too.

Suddenly Rose is having a lot better time that she was when she got here.

Everyone at this party is full of such good ideas. Like the person who suggested she skull her wine – excellent suggestion. And the person who proposed they all just drink straight from the bottle – what a visionary. And the person who said she should get up on the table and dance – well that guy was just a fucking genius.

Surrounded by a group of girls she doesn't recognize, she throws herself around to the music, swaying her hips and lifting her arms in the air without a care in the world. She grinds against one of the girls because, hello, it's hilarious! And super fun. This whole night just got really fun.

In retrospect, Rose can concede that she maybe should have taken her high heels off before getting on the table. That probably would have been a wise plan. But Rose isn't focused on being wise; she's focused on impressing the scores of faceless people surrounding the table. So she absolutely misses the puddle someone's spilt drink has left on the table, and when she puts her foot in it she loses all balance and goes ass over tit right there for everyone to see.

She's giggling on the floor – because alcohol has a funny way of not making you aware of any pain until long after you should have been notified – when a shadow looms over her.

"For fuck's sake Weasley, get your shit together."

She cranes her head back to see Scorpius Malfoy standing over her, reaching to pick her up with the air of someone would who much rather be doing literally anything else right now.

"My shit is together, thank you."

"No it's not – you're a fucking mess."

She might not feel the bruises yet, but she sure feels that remark hit her right in the feels.

"I'm just having fun…" she mutters as way of an excuse. She doesn't know why he's still holding her, or where he's taking her, but he's very determinedly directing her through a throng of people. Rose isn't sure how he's managing it, her feet are dragging and stumbling along the floor, him taking most of her weight. Maybe his stupid giant shoulders were useful for something after all.

Someone – one of the lads who agreed that dancing on the table was a most excellent idea – tries to step in front of them.

"Hey, let the lady dance, man!"

Rose can't see his face, but she can feel the rage radiating off Scorpius. He leans in close to the man and growls, "Get out of my fucking way, before I make you."

There's not many people as physically imposing as Scorpius Malfoy, and this man seems to know when to pick his battles, because he sulkily moves to the side to let him pass with Rose. Rose smiles weakly at him as way of apology for Scorpius being so rude.

"That was rude," she tells him in a tiny voice as she leans heavily on him as he directs her through the crowd.

"Shut up Weasley."

She does. Don't get her wrong, Rose wants to retort, it's just that the world's spinning and her back hurts and she thinks she might vomit. When he gets to the foyer at the front of the venue, he props her up against a wall and pulls out his phone to dial someone.

"I need a car," his tone is harsh, "No it's Weasley, she's a fucking mess…I don't know but we need to get her home…Just get me a fucking car."

He hangs up but keeps muttering under his breath for several moments.

"I don't need you to take care of me," she murmurs around awkward vomit-tinged burps.

"Well someone has to as you're clearly incapable of doing it yourself." She's never heard him sound so angry.

"I was just having fun," she stands up straighter to get more air, "Lighten up Malfoy."

"I don't need to lighten up, _you_ need to grow up," he's in her face now and she never noticed how blue his eyes look when he's angry, "You're a fucking adult. Start acting like it."

"You don't get to tell me what to do!" she spits at him, anger overwhelming any sense of pain she was feeling.

"Yes I do!" he thunders at her and she vaguely registers the sound of a car approaching, "Because how you act reflects on me, and I refuse to be brought down because you're a messy fucking drunk."

"Well you'd be the expert."

It's out of her mouth before she can stop herself, and she instantly regrets it. She sees the way his jaw tightens, how his eyes grow wide and he holds his breath. Rose just crossed a line and she knows it.

She should apologise. But that would mean admitting defeat, and she couldn't do that. She has a right to be angry at him, and he has no right to say those things to her.

Still. She crossed a line.

He looks out the window onto the street outside and recognizes the car pulling up in front. He grabs her arm, much more harshly than he needs to, and leads her to the car. Rose stumbles several times but he manages to keep her on her feet. Scorpius pulls the door open and basically shoves her in the back seat. Rose falls in gracelessly and readjusts her dress to cover herself. He lingers in the doorway, scowling at her still.

"Go home, drink some water, and try to wake up acting your age," he says sardonically. She throws her arms in the air and knocks her knuckles on the roof of the car. She pretends it doesn't hurt.

"Jesus, Malfoy, I'm sorry I'm not perfect like you!"

He leans in close, his voice low and cold, "I'm not perfect, Weasley, I'm just not a fucking embarrassing disgrace. It's not a very high bar to reach for, even you should be able to hit it."

He slams the door shut and walks back into the party, leaving her to sit with nothing but her thoughts in the back of the car.

She manages to sob silently for most of the car trip, and only explodes into full-blown ugly cries once she's in the comfort of her own apartment.

Rose walks in to do the commentary for the DVD being released in a few months the day after, feeling hungover, humiliated and sore as fuck, and they got exactly what they deserved.

She's the only one doing commentary; Hastings opposing it because he's an artist and thinks it's insulting to have to explain his work, Scorpius refusing because he's off screwing a contractually obligated actress somewhere. So it just leaves little ole Rose sitting there recording a running commentary of the film.

She kind of hates it because she hates watching herself back on screen, but she also hates it because it involves watching Scorpius back on screen for two hours. The latter is most certainly worse than the former.

They should not have left her unsupervised. Her highlights reel included:

" _Oh and here he comes, Scorpius Malfoy in all his blonde hair glory! That's not him on the motorbike, FYI. He said he couldn't do it because of his contract and insurance, but I think it's just because he knows he'd be awful at it. Couldn't have risked him falling on his stupidly scuplted ass."_

" _Urgh, great, a close up on his perfect face, so we can see his perfect cheekbones. The makeup girls put highlighter on him which should be illegal – a girl could already cut themselves on those cheekbones, we don't need to be simultaneously blinded by the highlighter as well!"_

" _And look at this bit just wait – and focus on his hair…riiiiiight….THERE! See that flick?! No one's hair is supposed to actually be able to do that! But of course Scorpius Malfoy's does, because he's not even human, and neither is his hair. They're just…perfect…shiny…aliens. Bastards the both of them – him and his hair. Beautiful stupid bastards. It hurts my eyes to look at them too long. That should come as a warning on the cover – 'must wear sunglasses whenever Scorpius Damn Malfoy and his stupid hair are on screen because they're too shiny and perfect for us mere mortals to deal with'."_

" _He has done absolutely nothing to deserve such incredible eyelashes."_

" _Oh yes, please, make him get shirtless, because that's relevant to the plot. You know he actually begged Hastings to let him get half-naked? Hastings was all like 'I don't see how there is any logical reason for Elijah to take his shirt off here.' And Malfoy was all like, 'Yeah, but like…my abs.'. True Story…Ok that isn't true, that is completely made up, but it could be true because honestly, what other reason is there for this ridiculous slow-mo other than his abs?"_

" _Oh and now we kiss! You know that kiss took us twenty takes. Probably didn't help that I was basically barfing in my mouth every time he came close to my face. I was like 'no you obnoxiously beautiful human, get your well-hydrated lips away from me!' Worst day on set."_

Rose leaves still feeling hungover as fuck but slightly less vindicated. They probably won't use it anyway. No biggie.

* * *

Actually it was a biggie. It was a really big fucking biggie. They used it all and now it's a big fucking biggie.

This, ladies and gentlemen, is the first time that Rose Weasley becomes an internet sensation.

 _AllegraandElijahNerd101 - OMG guys! If you haven't listened to Rose Weasley's commentary on KoC dvd THEN GO DO IT RIGHT NOW! SHE BASICALLY SAYS SHES IN LOVE WITH SCORPIUS AND OMG I CANT EVEN #Scorose #itscanonbitches_

 _AllyandEli4Eva26 - AllegraandElijahNerd101 #Imnotevening #onascaleof1-evenican't #thisisthebestdayofmylife #Scorose4lyf #Ishipit #OTP_

The Twittersphere goes wild and _#Scorose_ officially starts trending. She's all over the internet, with people captioning awkward screenshots of her (pulling a facial expression she can only classify as 'derp') with quotes like " _no you obnoxiously beautiful human, get your well-hydrated lips away from me_."

There's another of her pulling an absolute creeper face (like seriously, when did she _ever_ pull that face?!) with the caption "When he's got abs and well-hydrated lips."

Even Lily, her cousin, gets in on the game and sends her a link to a fanfic that isn't about Allegra and Elijah but _her and Scorpius_. In mentions well-hydrated lips and a perfectly sculpted ass. She may never live those comments down.

What worries her more than becoming a laughing stock, is that people seem to genuinely believe she's in love with Scorpius Malfoy. She's tempted to send out a tweet clarifying that the kissing day actually was the worst day on set, but she chose not to. She figured if she just ignored it, it would go away.

* * *

It never went away.

* * *

They're at a party celebrating Hastings' 38th birthday. Only Rose kind of thought it was only the _Kingdom_ crew attending this shindig. But there's a lot of people she doesn't recognize as being connected with _Kingdom_ , including a sleaze called Norman who has apparently decided he wants a slice of the Rose pie.

Rose does not consider herself pie, and even if she did, there is no way in hell Norman would even be getting a whiff of her pastry-goodness.

"You know I used to watch your parents' films all the time," he mentions as his eyes drag over her. She tries not to vomit in her mouth.

"Your mum was hot."

"My mum finished acting when she was 18."

"Still hot."

She's tempted to kick him in the gonads, but he might be a producer or studio head and that would make that a monumentally awful idea.

Still. _Tempting._

She's looking for an out and somehow the only one she sees is standing by a water feature and scowling at nothing in particular.

"Excuse me," she says as she slinks away to join her costar, "I have something to discuss with Scorpius."

She rushes over to him, grabs a champagne flute off a passing waitress' tray on her way to give her an excuse to approach him. They haven't spoken since the tabletop incident, so she's not sure how she'll be received, but he's her only option at this point. Hastings is taking the stage to make a speech to thank them for attending. Rose isn't really listening, Hastings tends to drone on a bit, she just needs some place to be that isn't next to a guy that used to perv on her underage mum.

"Aren't you going to toast?" Rose asks as an opening, passing him a glass of wine. Scorpius, without even looking at her, responds emotionlessly.

"I am."

Rose sees the glass of what looks like cola in his hand.

"I meant a proper toast. You know," she raises the extra champagne flute she grabbed as an excuse, "with _wine._ "

"I don't drink."

"Bullshit." It comes out as a reflex. It takes him a moment to register.

"Pardon?" The words are polite, the tone is not.

"I've seen you drink!" Rose remembers the unfortunate incident that led to the unfortunate commentary, "All those stupid parties! You're always drinking."

"It's called 'acting' _darling_ ," its said with a sneer, "you should look into it."

She gives him a swift elbow to the solar plexus which successfully shuts him up. And now they're awkwardly standing next to each other and she really wants to leave but she walked all the way over here and if she leaves now Norman will continue to try and weasel his hand up her skirt. She really doesn't want that, and she knows (even though it angers her inner feminist monumentally) that if she continues to stand next to Malfoy at least Norman won't make a move ( _it's like dealing with wolves_ ), so she lingers more than she should.

* * *

Weasley's joined him and feels compelled to fill the perfectly respectable silence with her inane mutterings.

"You know, if you didn't want to accept a drink from me you can just say that," she says, hip jutted out like a grumpy toddler.

He'd grown tired of this conversation before it started. "I told you, I don't drink."

"Since when?"

"Always."

"Why?"

If he hadn't just had an altercation with an old bastard who insisted he should shoot up in the toiler ' _like his father always used to'_ , then maybe Scorpius could have kept his mouth shut. But he had, and he was at the end of his tether and could no longer be polite, so instead he sighed angrily and muttered, "Because as you've pointed out before, historically the Malfoy men haven't been incredibly adept at handling their liquor."

There's a long awkward pause and Scorpius internally chastises himself for making such a ridiculous comment.

 _Now she's got ammo to tear you apart. You don't open up to people, least of all Weasley. You should have just insulted her hair and made her leave._

Her next words stun him.

"Well did you wanna pour your coke into this wine glass so it looks a bit more fancy and toast-like."

There's no judgment in her tone, no condescension or sarcasm. Just a genuine offer to help him blend in.

He's not sure anyone's ever offered him that before.

He looks at her for the first time that evening. Her hair's an explosion of fiery ringlets that burst from her scalp to dangle down her mid-back and she's wearing a glittery gold dress that hangs nicely on her lithe frame. She's wearing quite a bit of makeup, but in a way to make her look deceptively 'natural' (no on in this room, or in this town, is natural). Her big blue eyes are lined with liner that makes them pop and Scorpius comes to the realisation, for the first time ever, that Rose Weasley might be what some people consider 'attractive'. It doesn't mean anything about them is going to change, it's just a bit of a shock to suddenly realise that the troll you've been constantly yelling at under the bridge has emerged one day and turns out it's actually quite an attractive young maiden. It takes his mind a moment to make the adjustment.

He looks at the offered glass, still full of champagne as far as he can tell.

"And what do you plan to do with the champagne?"

Rose, without blinking, pours as much of the contents into her own glass, then pours the rest into a very expensive looking water feature about a meter away from them. She returns and hands the empty flute to him. He blinks at her. She catches his eye, raises an eyebrow quizzically. He pointedly looks at the water feature. Rose rolls her eyes.

( _Side note: when did he start being able to have entire conversations with Rose Weasley through eye contact alone? When was he ever able to do that with anyone?)_

"I'm a budding starlet," she says with a self-depreciating honesty, "I can walk around flashing my crotch and people wouldn't care – pouring a bit of wine into some water isn't going to get me arrested. Even if it did, it would probably just boost my popularity."

It is in that moment that Scorpius Malfoy realises not only did he not notice Rose's agreeable features before, but he also largely underestimated her understanding of this business.

He takes the flute and empties his glass into it.

"I'm sorry about what I insinuated…" Rose says, clearly uncomfortable, "About you recognising messy drunks…"

He considers staying angry at her, but she's apologising and he has to give her some sort of credit for that. He's never apologised for a thing in his life, even when he should have. Plus she'd approached him when she saw him standing alone and uncomfortable tonight; he guesses he owes her for that too. He doesn't say it's fine, because it's not, but it hasn't wounded him like she seems to think it did. She can at least know that.

"If I got personally offended every time someone mentioned my father's addiction I'd be a suicidal wreck."

He feels her stiffen beside him. He lets out a sigh.

"I'm not, just to clarify."

She's visibly relieved, "Ok. Good. That's good."

They stand together throughout the speeches. It's not awful. In fact it's even bearable.

He leaves still smelling her perfume.

* * *

They're shooting the final two films in the _Kingdom_ trilogy back-to-back, but mid-way through they have to do the press junket and it's exhausting as always. Hours and hours of interviewers asking basically the same question, laughing at their poor attempts at flattery, trying not to roll her eyeballs right into her skull when they ask her about her diet – it's all same-old same-old by now.

Until Ms. Skeeter walks in.

She's an older lady from a trashy tabloid and Rose is honestly stunned that she's still writing let alone allowed to interview them ( _not to brag, but her and Scorpius are kind of a big deal right now_ ). She has a reputation for being inappropriate which explained why she's writing for a shitty tabloid, despite her years of experience, rather than a newspaper or more reputable establishment. Rose mentally prepares herself to be both offended and shocked, and decides to make peace with it.

That resolves lasts maybe 12 seconds thanks to the idiot reporter's first question, asked solely to Scorpius.

"By the time he was your age, your father already had a long history of addiction and drug and alcohol abuse – are you heading down the same track?"

Scorpius blinks at her stoically and attempts to answer – something that would have been _polite_ and _polished_ and _perfect_ – but Rose beats him to the punch. _Loudly._

" _Excuse me?!"_ she fails at stopping her voice from rising. Skeeter apparently only now notices that she's there, "How _dare_ you?! How _bloody dare_ you?! In what fragmented version of reality do you live in that you think that would be anywhere near an appropriate question to ask?"

Rose hears Kitty moving in to try and do damage control and rein Rose in.

 _Too late._

Skeeter starts to stutter a response, probably unhappy that she was getting this reaction from Rose and not Scorpius (because that question was bait if ever there was), but Rose doesn't let her actually finish her sentence.

"We are here to talk about a movie that we are both very proud of. You have been given the privilege to discuss it with us – because no, being a reporter does not _entitle you_ to these things – and you squander this opportunity by making a horrendously offensive comment to my friend, in a blatant attempt at click bait and a scandalous headline?" Rose looks her in the eye; Scorpius stays oddly silent next to her, "I may make a living off of playing pretend, but you're trying to make a name for yourself at other peoples' expense. It does not earn you respect and it is most unbecoming. May I suggest that you re-assess your values, because they are way out of line. You are a discredit to your profession, and a stain on the fabric of humanity. Put that in your fucking headline. Interview over."

Rose nods to security (who were already moving in, good fellows) and Skeeter disappears nearly as quickly as she appeared moments ago. Kitty discretely leaves to organize a short break before the next reporter.

Rose mutters angrily to herself as she takes a sip of water, finally glancing at Scorpius to find him staring at her with an unsettlingly blank expression.

"I know, I know," Rose murmurs and rolls her eyes, "You don't need me fighting your battles."

"No, I don't, but…" he pauses, Rose holds eye contact to watch the internal battle he's obviously having, "It's nice sometimes…to feel like I've got someone…on my side."

Rose smiles and feels some of the rage fade away.

"I'm on your side Malfoy," she murmurs, "Even if I am a disgrace."

"Only when you're dancing."

She looks at him and finds him smiling. It's a nice look on him.

They're preparing for the next reporter, Kitty successfully bossing people around like always (whilst still texting – _how does she do that?_ ) when it happens.

In their last precious second alone, Scorpius surprises Rose by taking her hand and kissing her knuckles softly. Like it's the most bloody normal thing in the world and not _at all_ weird for them to be doing. _Which it totally is_.

"Thank you," he whispers, all mirth gone from his tone. Rose gets goose bumps.

"Anytime."

* * *

That night he pours himself a long drink which he stares at for two hours, before pouring it down the sink.

He remembers how the colour rose in her face as she defended him. Remembered how she called him a friend. Remembered how her hand fit in his perfectly.

He will not become his father. Rose believes he's capable of being more. So he will be.

* * *

The article (written by Skeeter) comes out accusing Rose of ' _verbally attacking'_ Skeeter and details how she feared for her life. Probably because she has no other details because she was banished.

The next day, footage from the interview " _mysteriously"_ gets " _leaked"_ (cough, Kitty, cough), and suddenly everyone's singing a different tune – generally praising Rose.

Of course there's memes (there's _always_ memes) of Rose in shining armour saving Scorpius who's the damsel in distress. Then there's others of her with the phrase " _BAB – Boss Ass Bitch"_ directly under her headshot. She quite likes them.

She sends a quick text to her mum: _Did I take it too far?_

The response is almost immediate despite the fact they're on different continents at the time: _No. You defended your friend. I am very proud of you._

That's all the approval Rose needs.

* * *

"So Rose, the last two films in the _Kingdom of Cowards_ series are very physically demanding – what diet and exercise regime have you followed to stay in shape?"

Rose wanted to roll her eyes. _Really hard_.

If she had a nickel for every time she got asked about her diet and how much she worked out at the gym ' _to fit that skin-tight catsuit'_ she'd be earning almost double her current salary. She plasters on a smile and goes to answer before Scorpius steps in.

"Why didn't you ask me that?" he's feigning innocence, sounds deliberately curious. Rose knows he's baiting the journalist. She just doesn't know why.

It takes the journalist a moment to respond, "Oh it's just, just a question I've got listed for Rose."

"Yes, but why isn't it listed for me as well?" now there's a bit of bite to his tone, "It's a physically demanding shoot for me too. Why aren't you concerned with what I'm doing to stay in shape?"

The journalist, who's looking embarrassed and awkward as he shuffles through his note looking for an answer, "Erm…"

"Let's make a deal," Scorpius smiles that sharp smile and Rose is a little taken aback to see what it looks like when it's directed at someone other than herself, "Any question that mentions diet, exercise, or beauty regimes, I'm going to answer. Any question that asks about addiction or living in the shadows of a shunned parent, Rose will take. Sound like a plan?"

The journalist can't really argue without pointing out how biased his questions are. So instead he just nods absently and tries to search for questions suitable for the both of them. It's hilariously unsuccessful.

"So, um, how much time do you spend getting ready for filming?"

"In hair and make up?" Scorpius questions with a wicked smile, "Oh, a good six hours. They have to conceal my unsightly hunchback and wart-covered nose. It's a feat of determination and otherworldly skill. The hair and make-up team are the real MVPs."

Rose snorts as she tries to conceal her laugh. Scorpius, somehow, keeps a straight face.

The next question is about what it's like being raised in a household with _issues_ , so Rose steps in, "Yeah we really struggled to come to terms with dad's farting problem. It's really atrocious. Like sometimes we can't even enter a room he's been in if he's let one rip. He dutch-ovened mum once – she was hospitalised for a week. It's been a battle."

Now it's Scorpius' turn to laugh.

The journalist wraps up the interview a lot sooner than planned when it becomes clear he's not going to get the answers he's after. Which serves him right for having ridiculous questions.

* * *

He gets a verbal beat-down from Maxwell for the train wreck of an interview, gets told that it's bloody lucky he can spin this in their favour.

Although he doesn't voice it, there is one simple reason why he did it – because he and Rose are on each other's side.

He's not sure anyone's been on his side before. He likes the company, so he'll do all he can to keep her there.

* * *

They appear on Jimmy Kimmel which is just so surreal that Rose can't help but pinch herself while they sit on the couch talking to him.

The show ends with a basketball competition – Scorpius and Rose pitted against Jimmy and Cordelia Howlett, an American singer taking over the charts. It's a competition to see which pair can score 20 goals first, but each teammate must score ten each. It seems insanely unfair, after all they're _British_ and their opponents are _American_ – they're being set up to fail.

Scorpius is actually quite good ( _sur-fucking-prise_ ) and manages to score all ten of his shots before Jimmy gets past eight. Now it's Rose's turn.

Let the humiliation begin.

Her display is a clear reminder to everyone that she went to _drama school_ and she didn't get in on a sports scholarship.

Basically she's just awful.

Jimmy and Cordelia are catching them and Rose is reaching the point of being well and truly embarrassed at not being able to get more than one in so far. The crowd starts cheering and before she can register what's happened, Scorpius appears in front of her and dives to his knees.

"What are you doing?" Rose asks, incredulous.

"Helping us win! " side note: Scorpius Malfoy is incredibly competitive, "Get on my shoulders!"

"What?!"

"Just get on my shoulders, Weasley! Hustle!" There's a strict determination in his eyes and Rose struggles to remember a time she's seen him so committed.

For the record, Rose only did it because she was wearing pants and could confidently avoid a wardrobe malfunction, and she would do anything to be less embarrassed right now. She staggers onto his shoulders and is immediately hoisted into the air when he stands up.

"You're cheating!" Jimmy yells.

"You can't prove that!" Scorpius responds.

Which, obviously, he absolutely can. But that's beside the point.

Sitting on his shoulders, Rose is taller than the hoop and casually drops the balls through as Scorpius passes them up to her. The crowd goes wild when they get over the line in a stunning (if not slightly controversial) win. He bends down to his knees again and Rose clambers off, awkward but happy.

And as they're waving to the crowd and acting like they just won an Olympic gold medal, Scorpius does something incredibly out of character – he wraps his arm around her shoulders and drops a kiss on the top of her head.

Rose doesn't protest, just wraps an arm around his waist in response. It's harmless. They're just congratulating each other. It's probably his way of apologising for demanding she get on his shoulders. It doesn't mean anything

* * *

Of course Tumblr is convinced it actually means they're secretly in love.

 _KingdomofCowardismyhighschool: HE KISSED HER HEAD AND I CAN'T EVEN_

 _KoCScoroseLove: SCOROSE FOR LYF_

 _ScoroseHeartFace: I WILL GO DOWN WITH THIS SHIP_

 _AllyandEli4Eva: OI SCORP, MATE, YOU MISSED HER LIPS!_

* * *

The fans love it when they pretend to be friendly. That's the only reason he does it.

It's not because she's slowly becoming the voice in his head.

It's not because he likes the way her hand feels in his.

It's not because he finds her coming to him in his dreams.

It's not because of any of that. It's just because of the fans.

That's all.

* * *

After _Kingdom's_ success and announced sequel, their Comic Con session gets bumped up to Hall H – the big leagues – and they get allotted more time to talk.

Rose is more than a little awestruck when she walks on stage and people start screaming her name. She smiles and waves, sees a few people in front have dressed up like Allegra which is a whole other level of incredible.

Goddam, fans are awesome.

Scorpius walks on stage behind her. He's apparently taken her advice to heart about being likeable because he waves and bows, points to a few people in the front that are either dressed as Allegra or Elijah and gives them a thumbs up.

Rose wonders if that's the first time he's ever done that gesture.

She tries not to take it to heart that the crowd is definitely more excited to see him than they were to see her. That said, the crowd, like their fan-base, is predominantly female so she guesses he's got a lot of girls who are incredibly in love with him.

No, they're in love with Elijah. If they really met him she's sure they'd be bitterly disappointed.

Rose brings herself back to the present because having thoughts like that will inevitably result in her scowling, and if she's caught scowling at him on camera it probably won't be good for publicity.

The panel is as expected, everyone doing their utmost best to be charming. Except Hastings. Hastings doesn't need charm for people to like him, all he needs is for them to keep buying tickets, and he's got his stars to do all the charming stuff. So his answers are typically a lot shorter than they should be, but everyone just accepts it and tries not to make him more uncomfortable than he obviously already is.

Rose tries to ignore the way Scorpius looks at her every time she answers a question. Just like she ignores it when their hands brush under the table accidentally.

On several occasions.

Yup. Just ignore it.

The moment of the day comes about when one fan who introduced herself as ' _Laura, from Ohio. I'm such a huge fan!_ ', has a particular request of Scorpius.

"You see," she stammers, brushing her fringe out of her face as she flushes, "It's my best friend Abbey's birthday. And she really loves you, and I was wondering if you might be able to, maybe, if you wouldn't mind, see she'd really love it if you could sing her happy birthday?"

The crowd erupts and poor Laura looks like she's part Weasley with how deep her blush is. Rose can empathise. She looks across to see Scorpius looking at the girl with a strained smile. Rose sees his jaw tense and can tell he's not exactly thrilled at the prospect. But he's live on stage now, his decision will be judged quickly and harshly.

"I'm not exactly much of a singer…" he says with a nervous laugh, looking down the panel, apparently for someone to back him up.

Rose decides to get some of her own back for all the times he'd humiliated her over the years.

She may be on his side, but there's still red in the ledger to be settled.

"It's happy birthday, not the opera!" she says, smiling brightly at him and looking him right in the eye, "Come on, Malfoy, make the girl's day."

It's a challenge and they both now it. His eyes glare at her but his smile remains.

Looks like he's not going to give her the upper hand after all. He shrugs and looks back at the crowd.

"Who am I to deny a birthday request?"

The crowd goes ballistic. Like Defcon five levels of happiness and ecstasy. Scorpius stands, motions to the stagehand to bring him a microphone as he walks to the front of the stage.

Goddam he's actually going to do it. He's not just going to sing bashfully from his seat – like Rose would have done – he's going to fucking perform.

Maybe her challenge backfired.

"Now where is Miss. Abbey?"

Laura points furiously to the middle of the crowd where an enthusiastic hand is waving.

"Ah, there you are!" Rose is quite sure he can't see her through the lights, but he's making a show of it, "Well my dearest, sweetest, Abbey," she girl might actually faint, "I hope you have a wonderful birthday. This one's for you."

There are screaming teenagers everywhere. Everyone is losing their goddam minds. Rose hopes he sounds awful.

Then he opens his mouth.

"Happy birthday….to you…" with tones as smooth and rich as Sinatra, Scorpius _fucking_ Malfoy croons a serenade that has the entire crowd entranced. Rose can't believe what she's hearing. He gets to the final round of happy birthday when he really puts the icing on the cake.

"Happy birthday," a dramatic pause and his voice goes low and husky, "To you, _Abbey."_

Rose's hearing might be permanently damaged from the squealing. His voice is goddam perfect. _And how the fuck is that fair?!_

"Happy birthday, to you."

The room erupts, Scorpius takes a bow, blows the crowd a kiss, and Rose loses it.

"Oh come on!" she cries, the crowd dies down a little to hear what she has to say as Scorpius turns to look at her, "Just be bad at _something!"_

In what is probably a fortuitous outcome, everyone takes it as a joke and laughs and claps for the stunning performance they just saw. Scorpius has the absolute gall to wink at her as he heads back to his seat. In what is absolutely the cherry on top, he puts his arm around her chair as he sits and plants a kiss top of her head.

 _Um, what?._

And of course the crowd explodes because apparently head-kissing is the universally recognized symbol of declaring your undying love for someone. Thanks Tumblr.

Scorpius leans in to whisper to her, "Don't worry Weasley, I'll sing you happy birthday too."

She pinches him in the thigh under the table. He just laughs.

Rose has to try much harder not to look grumpy for the rest of the panel.

They're standing backstage, waiting to be taken out to their cars when Scorpius approaches Rose where she's perched against the wall reading a book on her phone.

"I can't drive," he says as he plants himself next to her, hands in his pockets as he gives off an air of someone who knows they've done a good job.

"What?" she asks harshly, looking up at him to find him smiling down at her. It puts her on edge, but she softens her features in case this is some peace offering.

"You wanted me to be bad at something," he supplies, nodding in the general direction of Hall H they just came from, "I'm a horrible driver."

That makes her smile, partly because maybe this is actually a well-overdue peace offering, partly because she's a really great driver and she enjoys having something over him.

"See, was that so hard? Admitting you're human like the rest of us?" She asks with good-natured teasing. It's a change for them. He looks her right in the eye when he responds.

"I'm still not entirely sure that's what you are, Weasley."

And just like that, the olive branch explodes in flames.

Rose physically growls. "You were so close to being _not a dick_ , and then you revert to normal and be a dick again. I almost liked you for a second, Malfoy."

She walks off because her car is ready and she honestly just doesn't want to be around him anymore.

* * *

She leaves so quickly that she doesn't see him smiling at her, or the way his hand reached for hers as she left.

But she liked him for a second. Maybe there is hope.

* * *

 _There you have it - the first 15,000 words. Act 2 is in the editing stages at the moment. Also, if it seemed like Scorpius suddenly changed his tune about Rose too quickly, don't worry, it's all going to be better resolved and fleshed out in the next chapter._

 _Hope you enjoyed it. I'd really appreciate it if you dropped me a review if you have the time :)_


	3. Act Two

_A/N: this one's heavy on banter, light on everything else. Also the smut warning comes into play a bit here. Enjoy._

 _Disclaimer: as before, I do not own these characters._

* * *

 **Act Two – In Which The Drama Intensifies as Things Change**

" _Open my chest and colour my spine; I'm giving you all, I'm giving you all. Swallow my breath and take what is mine; I'm giving you all, I'm giving you all."_

 _Wolves Without Teeth – Of Monsters and Men_

* * *

Her phone rings at 8:16am and given that she hasn't yet had her coffee, the conversation isn't bound to go well. As soon as she answers, her caller starts speaking.

"We're going to have to get along more," Scorpius Malfoy is apparently above introductions and pleasantries.

"I don't see why," Rose scowls at coffee machine that is _taking it's Goddam time to function_ , "Apparently our chemistry is ' _electrifying'_ just as it is. If it ain't broke…"

"'Electric' may suit _Kingdom_ , but it won't suit _'Beacon'_."

 _Beacon_ is the movie Rose literally signed up to be a part of 11 hours ago, and she would actually be really excited to be a part of if it didn't mean costarring with Scorpius again. They may have become amiable, but they're not exactly besties. Plus, she would hate to be typecast as his love interest for the rest of her life. That would just be weird.

Hopefully _Beacon_ will be the last time it happens.

They're set to play a pair of time travellers who are soul mates that keep getting hunted through time, irreversibly changing the course of Earth's future in their attempts to be together. It's all very dramatic and somber (and _of course_ it doesn't have a happy ending, but happy endings rarely win Oscars so she's not complaining), and has the makings of a bloody brilliant film. Rose was honoured, and a little shocked, that she was even deemed worthy enough to get a copy of the script let alone be cast as the female lead. Filming won't be starting for about a year due to scheduling conflicts with other projects, but Rose is keen to absorb as much from the script as she can in the mean time.

But of course, as was the case with her big break, Scorpius Malfoy came along as a package deal. What is it with directors 'seeing sparks' between them? They're all delusional – but this is Hollywood after all, you've gotta be a little delusional to be here in the first place.

The most delusional prat of all, perhaps, is calling her right now, for if he thinks she is going to roll over and become his best friend because he asked her to, then he's dreaming.

She throws his own line back at him. "It's called _acting_ , Malfoy, you should try it sometime."

"Ha. Ha." He deadpans, "I'm serious. _Kingdoms_ needs passion, but Oskar and Tabitha have nothing but the purest love and desperation to be together. We can't play them angry, and right now I don't think you're capable of that."

Oskar and Tabitha are the doomed lovers in _Beacon_. They're the kind of meaty complex characters that only come along once every few years and Rose is ready to sink her teeth into the challenge of doing Tabitha justice.

Right after she sinks her teeth into Malfoy for being a dick.

" _Excuse me?!"_ she's ready to start a tirade but he just continues happily judging her at the other end of the line.

"Your anger towards me radiates," he adds casually, "you're not a good enough actor to cover that up."

"Yes I can!" she protests vehemently.

"Really?" he sounds thoroughly unconvinced, "You're yelling at me and I haven't even been talking to you for two minutes."

"That's because you're being a twat," she remarks, but there's not as much bite to her tone as there would have been a year ago, "Plus, we're not filming. If we were filming I could be plenty convincing."

"You honestly think you can convince everyone, with our current relationship being what it is –"

"Which is an acquaintance, at best," she interjects. He continues.

"-That you love me and are willing to watch the world burn so we can be together?"

"Yes," she answers confidently. She didn't punch him at all last year; she can sell their romance. She hears his scoff at the end of the line.

"It's a three month shoot with barely any supporting cast. How are we going to get through it without killing each other?"

Rose paused. Scorpius took her silence as affirming his suspicions.

"Just as I thought," she can _hear_ his smirk, "Neither of us can afford to fuck up _Beacon_ , so we're just going to have to be… _friends,"_ he paused, _"Ish."_

The coffee machine finally decides to get its life together and whirs to life. Rose watches as nectar from the Gods trickles into her awaiting cup. Oh god she needs this to continue with this conversation so early in the morning.

"I was open to being ' _friend-ish_ ' back when we were eight; you had other ideas," if she sounded petty, she didn't care. He brushes her off.

"Darling if you're going to hold grudges like that you're never going to make it in this industry."

She doesn't mind him calling her darling anymore. Mainly because he sounds like he means it as an actual term of endearment, not an insult. She can't remember when that happened.

"Have you met literally anyone in this town? Everyone is petty in Hollywood – that _is_ the industry. I'll fit right in."

"We have passion now," she will neither accept nor deny that claim, "and we need to keep it, but if it keeps bubbling like this we'll just end up hating each other."

"Oh like we don't already?" she means it to sound aggressive, but it sounds utterly too curious to be convincing.

"We don't hate each other," he sounds somewhat amused, like she's just told him a joke, "But we need to be nicer to each other."

"I am nice. You're the dipshit."

"Calling people dipshits isn't being nice, Rose."

She's silent, dumbstruck, for several long moments as she tries to wrap her head around what he just said. He fills the silence.

"You can't honestly be too surprised to find out insulting people doesn't count as being nice," she can hear him smiling. It just makes it all the more confusing.

"That's not what I –" she screws up her face and tries to process what she's about to say, "You called me Rose."

"Yes," she doesn't miss that he seems to only now realize that was somewhat of a misstep on his behalf, "As friends are wont to do."

"It sounds weird," it's not a protest, exactly, but it's not exactly _not_ a protest either.

"Well take that up with your parents," he's got smart-assery in spades today, "I wasn't the one that named you."

"No," she clarifies, "it sounds weird when _you_ say it."

He lets out a ' _pfft'_ sound, "That's just because you're not used to hearing it."

"No, it's because it's weird," she tries to find a way to explain it, "Just like it'd be weird to hear me say _Scorpius._ "

Now it's his turn to pause.

"That _is_ weird."

"Told you," she sounds smug and slightly justified.

"Well we'll just have to get over it so we can be friends," he pauses again, " _Ish_."

They come up with a plan – they won't try to be social and _friendish_ on set because they both wisely predict it will end in them screaming at each other across the film lot. Plus, the press junket they're kind of in the middle of makes them both cranky, so it would be best not to have to actually sit down and talk to each other after 12 hours of questioning.

Instead, Rose begrudgingly agrees to let him call her each night. They'll talk and get to know each other and hopefully it will progress into friendship. Scorpius talks about it clinically, like them becoming friends is just a matter of time and not a matter of undoing over a decade of torment and rivalry. As he bids her good day with a smile and a promise to call tomorrow as per their arrangement, Rose can't help but think Scorpius is simultaneously overestimating his charm, and underestimating her ability to hold a grudge.

* * *

He breaks their deal the very first night and video calls her instead. This is a pattern that continues.

She's often tired and grumpy and it's hard because Rose knows he is literally reading off cue cards, but Scorpius prevails. Conversation doesn't exactly flow. He's disjointed and trying so painfully hard to actually sound like he can converse with other humans without insulting them that it's horrendously transparent. Really, if anyone observed their conversations they'd never guess they were actors.

They also argue. A lot.

"He is undisputed," Scorpius says as he runs a frustrated hand through his hair, almost knocking his thick-rimmed glasses askew (he never wears them in public. Rose doesn't consider the implications of him being open enough with her to wear them in front of her), "He is the original, the best! No one will ever beat him!"

"Connery is outdated!" Rose argues, hair wild and eyes a little bit crazy, "Daniel Craig reinvigorated the franchise and brought us a more believable secret agent."

"Who ever said Bond was supposed to be believable?" his tone is much too reminiscent of Hogwarts days. She ignores it as best she can.

"It was written by an ex-spy and yet it eventually became a parody of itself," she justifies and crossed her arms, "Craig is best."

"Connery has screen presence, charisma, charm! He's the whole package!" He's throwing his arms around wildly. Rose thinks she may have inadvertently hit a nerve. Maybe Scorpius just really loves Sean Connery.

"Connery Bond also slapped women until they agreed to sleep with him, and once dressed Japanese by wearing eyeliner –"

"It's a reflection of the era!" he interjects.

"That doesn't make it right." She's challenging him to say otherwise, which he obviously doesn't. If the eyebrow he quirks at her is anything to go by, he knows she tried clumsily to bait him and he thinks she could have done better. She agrees with him.

"We're not discussing the warped social rules of the 60s, Rose, we're discussing which Bond is the best."

"And why, exactly, are we discussing that?" she questions, completely forgetting how they got onto this topic of conversation ( _read: line of argument_ ).

"Because it says a lot about your character," he defends.

"How?"

"It…" he fumbles, looks at something on his tablet in his lap, "It just does!"

"So your choice of Connery says that you think physical abuse and coercion is an acceptable way to get a woman into bed, and literally every woman you meet is dispensable?" it's an accusation rather than a question, but there isn't any malice in her tone. She just enjoys watching him squirm.

"No it doesn't!" he sounds frustrated, so at least they're even, "It says that I value tradition and appreciate the class and dignity of decades past."

Something in Rose's brain clicks at the phrasing. "Are you…Is this a Buzzfeed quiz?"

There's a long pause and he does his best not to let the blush rise to his cheeks. For possibly the first time ever in his life, Scorpius Malfoy fails.

"…..No."

It's not until she's done laughing at him for _valuing tradition_ whilst also scanning quizzes like a teenage girl that she realizes he called her Rose like it was no big deal. She tells herself it isn't.

* * *

Rose is a liar.

* * *

During the fourth week of shooting _A Title for Traitors_ , the final film in the franchise, Rose witnesses a sight that almost makes her choke on a grape.

Draco Malfoy was here. In the _(somehow- more-pale-than-Scorpius')_ flesh.

And it's awkward as fuck.

He's standing with a shorter woman who she assumes is Astoria Malfoy (Rose can't be certain as the woman's back is turned to her) and Scorpius who looks painfully uncomfortable. They don't even seem to be talking amongst themselves let alone to anyone else. Scorpius isn't even looking at them – he's looking at the soundstage of their fake-house as the crew moves things around and tests lighting. Astoria is looking around at everything, apparently amazed by it all, and Draco is eyeing everyone suspiciously and may not actually be breathing.

Yup. Awkward as fuck.

Bringing family onto set was supposed to be a big thing. Usually everyone came out and made a point of saying hello and making them feel welcome. Rose had had Lily on set one day towards the end of filming the last one and everyone came out of their caves to meet her.

That said, people always came in droves to meet Lily Luna Potter. She had an aura that everyone was drawn to. Probably didn't hurt that she was stunning too.

And yet Scorpius and his parents were standing right there and no one seemed to be making an effort. It was awkward. And sad.

Rose didn't owe him anything. She was well within her rights to walk away and pretend she didn't see anything. She could walk out into the fake street and sit and chat with the catering girls, or the makeup girls who were always up for a gossip. She could do that. No one would blame her.

But then she caught sight of Astoria, who had turned her head to take in the enormity of the room, and saw the bright-eyed wonder in her face that Rose had the first time she was on set at one of her uncle's films. She remembered how everyone learnt her name and showed her things she'd never seen before and were incredibly lovely. Rose remembered how that moment made her want to get into acting, how she'd never been happier.

Rose might not owe Scorpius, but she owed it to herself to provide that experience to someone else.

Besides, she was on his side.

With a quick word of self-assurance, Rose pasted on a smile she hoped didn't look entirely forced and waltzed over to the golden-haired Malfoys like it was no big deal.

( _Note: it was a big fucking deal)_

"Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy!" oh god she sounds too jovial, "Welcome to the set!"

Scorpius meets her eyes briefly and she honest to god sees him deflate in relief. He may not be a religious man, but she's pretty sure he was thanking heaven for her existence in that moment.

Draco is a harder sell. Everything about him is stern. Stern, but not necessarily unkind.

Astoria turns and lights Rose up with the full strength of her smile. She really has a beautiful smile – the kind that is infectious because it's filled with genuine happiness. It makes her appear more beautiful than she already is. It's only when she's closer that Rose realizes just how young Astoria is compared to Draco. She knows he's lived a hard life and hasn't treated himself well, but Draco Malfoy looks older than his 42 years. And Astoria looks much younger than her 38. They make an odd couple.

That said, everyone's convinced her and Scorpius make a great couple and they're polar opposites so she really shouldn't judge.

"I'm Rose," she deliberately doesn't include her last name, even though she's sure they both know it, "Scorpius' co-star."

 _Good work for stating the obvious, Weasley._

"Oh of course we know who you are!" Astoria says brightly, "We've seen all of Scorpius' films and plays! Isn't that right, Draco?"

"Yes, indeed," he turns to Rose to address her directly, "Snow White."

Rose blanches. Was that a joke or an insult? Is he going to tell her off for throwing a shoe at his son's head (which he totally deserved, thank you very much)? Is that all he knows her as? Can he not remember her real name even though she literally just told him?

Maybe she'll just ignore him. Yup, that's her plan.

"Yeah," she laughs nervously and shifts her attention back to Astoria, "You've never been to and of the _Kingdom_ sets have you?"

"Oh I haven't been to _any_ set, dear," Astoria looks around with wide-eyed wonder again and Rose remembers that Draco hasn't done much acting, if any, since the Oscars incident, and he hadn't even met Astoria at that point, "It's just so different from on screen."

"We're not shooting on the sound stage at the moment, we can go look at that if you like?"

Rose cringes when she hears herself say 'we', like she's just invited herself on their family tour. Who knows, maybe Scorpius was giving them a tour of his favourite corner and she interrupted. Maybe she's being a nuisance. Maybe she should just go back to her trailer and forget all this.

"Yeah, you'd love that mum," Scorpius says, smiling down at Astoria – he towers over her too, "There's lots of green screen."

Astoria beams and follows her son when he walks in the direction of the sound stage. Rose isn't sure if she should tag along or if she should just let Scorpius go on by himself while she fades into the wallpaper.

Scorpius makes that decision for her.

"You know, if you ask nicely, Rose might show you her sword," Astoria's face lights up (again) as Scorpius looks to Rose with a smile, "Mum loves the sword."

"It's so wonderful!" Astoria makes sweeping motions with her arms, " _Swoosh!_ _Swoosh! Swoosh!_ Do you do all the stunts yourself, Rose?"

Rose only now realizes that she's walking beside Astoria as they head to the sound stage. Yep, ok, guess she's doing a family tour with the Malfoys now.

Add that to the list of things she never thought she'd be doing. _Fucking Ever._

"As many as they'll let me."

"Oh that's wonderful."

Rose comes to learn that 'wonderful' is one of Astoria Malfoy's favourite words.

The rest of the afternoon, before she's required for shooting, is spent introducing various people to the Malfoys as they make their way around set. Scorpius is different when he's with his parents. Or, more specifically, he's different when he's with Astoria. An exchange that sticks with Rose is when Astoria had enquired about who controlled the lighting above the stage.

"The lighting director," Scorpius supplies with no hint of sarcasm or condescension, "He sits in a booth and controls it all electronically."

"Does it get hot being under all those lights all day?" Astoria is all wide eyes and concern and Rose struggles to believe she birthed the stoic giant beside her.

"Dreadfully." Again, there is no sarcasm in his reply. Rose isn't sure she's ever heard him sound sincere for so long in her entire life.

"Well make sure you drink plenty of water. You don't want to get dehydrated."

Rose decides that Astoria Malfoy is officially one of the cutest people in existence. She's naïve and vulnerable, and perhaps the ditsiest person Rose has ever met, but she is lovely to everyone and constantly smiling.

Rose can't help but note that Scorpius smiles a lot when his mother's around too.

(Draco remains stern and cold. He doesn't say much. Astoria talks enough for the both of them. Rose imagines the petite woman having entire conversations by herself at Malfoy Manor.)

Rose is required in hair and makeup for a late night shoot earlier than Scorpius, so she bids them farewell and heads off to get 'Allegra-fied'.

Later, Scorpius finds her heading to set in her dressing gown and stops her.

"Thank you," he says and she does her best not to notice him sounding a bit emotional, "For being so accommodating today. My mother can ask a lot of questions."

Rose brushes it off with a friendly scoff.

"Oh it wasn't a big deal! I had fun. And your mum is lovely."

"She is," he pauses and struggles to fill the silence. They stand there in between studios in the dark awkwardly for several moments, neither knowing what to say.

"Well, I've got to get going," she says, gesturing to her face which is clearly covered in stage makeup. He steps out of her way and sweeps his arm to his side, gesturing for her to walk past.

Just as Rose steps past him she stops to say something that's been playing on her mind all day.

"Look, I know you won't want to hear it, but can I give you one piece of advice?"

"Advice?" he sounds amused rather than incredulous. Rose persists.

"Yeah, not about acting or anything, more about just…other stuff."

Something in his features hardens but he doesn't tell her to shut up or fuck off, so she continues.

"I think you're trying really hard to be the person you think your dad should have been when he was your age," Scorpius' face is softens into something less guarded as he watches her in silence, "That's not who you are, Malfoy. You don't owe it to anyone, least of all your dad, to make up for his mistakes. It's enough to be the person you are when your mum's around. In fact, I think if you were more like that, then you wouldn't have to clear your family's name, or whatever your obsession is with that. Because you'd redefine it."

He's so still that she wonders if he's even breathing. Before he can berate her for having the audacity to give him any kind of critique she shrugs and slinks away.

"Just a thought," she mutters more to herself than him as she shuffles away and tries to forget she told him anything.

* * *

 _Rose Weasley has read him like a book. He's never felt more naked in his life._

 _He wants to scream. He wants to shout. He wants to cry._

 _Instead he stands in the dark wondering how she managed to see right through him and how she's managed to work her way under his skin. He used to hate that she got there – that she hit him deep._

 _Now he craves it._

 _He wants more of Rose Weasley, wants to expose her and see her for everything she is. It's only fair._

 _Friends-ish might just not be enough anymore._

* * *

Scorpius proudly walks on set three days later holding a stack of stapled papers in his hand. It's too small to be a script, and before he can even greet her she's jumping to conclusions.

"If that is one of your fucking relationship contracts I'm going to rip your eyelashes out of your head."

He only smiles.

(She hates that he does that instead of smirk or sneer. She could handle the sneer, and the smirk hadn't thrown her off her game since she was 16. But the smile? The smile was disarming in every sense.)

"Now, now, don't go getting ahead of yourself," he gracefully drops into the chair beside her, "I wouldn't give you that without Maxwell present."

"How thoughtful of you," her words ooze sarcasm.

"I try," he holds the pages up with a flourish, "No, this is much more exciting!"

Rose eyes it suspiciously. He doesn't elaborate, just continues to smile at her stupidly.

So dramatic.

"Well, what is it?"

Scorpius lets out an excited, 'a-ha!' and looks at the pages with pride.

"It's my Friendship Quiz!"

Scorpius is ridiculously proud of himself. Rose is confused.

"Friendship quiz?"

"Yes!" he's smiling so wide it almost breaks his face in half. She does her best not to find it endearing, "It's all the things I should know about you so we can upgrade from _friends-ish_ to _friends no-ish_."

Rose raises an unimpressed eyebrow, "You think becoming friends is as easy as asking me what my favourite food is?"

"You're getting ahead of yourself again, Rose!" he flicks through a few pages, "We have _so_ much to cover before we get to food."

"Jesus Christ Malfoy have you ever actually had a friend?!" Rose exclaims in disbelief.

" _Scorpius."_ He corrects her somewhat harshly, _"_ You agreed to call me _Scorpius_."

"I'm adjusting," she shrugs.

"You're an actor; you should be better at that."

"Shut up."

"So," he looks to the papers in his hands, "let's start the quiz!"

Rose screws up her nose, "Don't say quiz – it makes me think of middle school."

"Test?" he amends.

"That is literally worse."

"Let's start getting to know each other!" he says it so loudly other people turn and look at them. It's mildly mortifying.

"I can already tell this is going to be awful." Rose mutters just loud enough for him to hear. He continues as if he didn't. Scorpius focuses on the paper, takes a deep breath, and prepares to interrogate her. Rose is expecting deep conversation, existential examinations, and justification of faiths.

She gets nothing near any of that.

"Favourite colour?" he asks, not even looking at her.

Rose blanches, "Are you serious?"

"Favourite colour?" he repeats, his tone slightly sterner.

"This isn't how you become friends, Scorpius." Rose says, crossing her arms.

" _Just answer the damn question Rose!_ " Well now it appears she's hurt his feelings. All two of them.

"Fine," she rolls her eyes, but relents. After all, they're friends-ish, "My favourite colour is purple."

"Really?" Scorpius sounds genuinely surprised. Surprised enough to look away from his quiz to face her.

"Why is that surprising?" Rose is mildly defensive.

"I just always assumed red would be a favourite, you know because…" he gestures to her hair, like its something taboo he's not allowed to openly speak about.

"Ok that's just-!"

"Mine's green," he interrupts her.

"I don't care."

"Well then you're not a very good friend," he actually turns his nose up at her before referring back to his document, "Right, Rose, purple; Scorpius Green. Next question – what's the body part of mine you most adore?"

" _What?!"_

Ok that was in no way relevant to them becoming friends. Scorpius has the gall to ignore her outrage.

"Oh, that's obvious – my eyelashes," he answers to himself, making notes under each question as they go. Rose has no idea how he came to that conclusion.

"And how to you figure that?" she asks, somewhat grumpy.

"You're mildly obsessed with them." It's a statement. A fact. Rose does not agree with it.

"I am n-"

"You are," he cuts her off again ( _now who's the bad friend_ ) and she feels the flush rising in her cheeks," You just can't deny it, can you Rosie?"

And then – and then! – _he flutters his goddam eyelashes at her._

Right, that's about enough 'Getting to Know Each Other' she can handle for one day.

"Ok this test is absolute bull-" she makes to get up but his next comment halts her movements.

"My favourite feature of yours is your mouth."

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how you shut Rose Weasley up with one fucking sentence.

"Or maybe it should be your brain, given it's what comes out of your mouth that I like most – all the ways you say you hate me are just hilarious," he looks at her with a broad smile, "Your eyes are a close second."

Rose isn't sure what she's supposed to say to that. Scorpius, apparently feeling very damn chatting today, continues to explain.

"And you know what – that exact blue of your eyes is my second favourite colour too."

The air's too thick and she can't breathe. She sees the exact moment he realizes he's said too much. His eyes open a fraction wider, he swallows heavily, and breaks eye contact as he goes back to his notes. He clears his throat and continues with his questions.

"Middle name?"

Right, like they can just move on after he drops _that_ bombshell on her.

Actually yeah, she does want to move on, because digging any deeper into that is most likely going to end with her finding out things she doesn't think she's ready to hear.

Definitely best to move on.

"Jean," she answers before adding, "Same as my mum's."

An emotionless, " _right,"_ is all she gets in response. There's an extended moment of silence.

"What about you?" Rose asks; Scorpius looks at her uneasily, "What's you middle name?"

"You have to promise not to pick on me."

Maybe it's the use of the term " _pick on me"_ , as if they're five, or maybe it's the way he looks up at her from under his (annoying beautiful) eyelashes. Rose isn't sure, but something about how embarrassed he looks has her smiling.

"What is it?" she's beaming now.

Scorpius tries to divert her.

"Because friends don't pick on each other, Rose, and we're agreeing to be friends."

"What is your middle name, Scorpius?"she's wearing a shit-eating grin and she absolutely refuses to cover it. He lets out a pained moan.

"Hi….." he mutters something incoherent as he turns his face away from hers and coughs into his hand. Some actor. Rose smiles wider and takes his face in her hands to turn him to face her.

This is probably not appropriate touching for friends. She realizes it too late. Besides he doesn't seem to mind. And that might actually make it worse.

"What is your middle name, Scorpius?" she repeats in a whisper, tries to ignore how his eyes flicker to her lips before meeting her eyes. He lets out a heavy sigh but maintains eye contact.

"Hyperion."

" _Hyperion?!"_ she exclaims, drawing a bit of attention to them.

"Friends don't pick on friends Rose! Remember that!" he murmurs in a harsh whisper, looking over to the bystanders that are watching them with a mixed bag of emotions. She drops her hands from his face and leans back to laugh rather loudly.

She's probably not being very friendly-ish.

"You could at least _try_ to be understanding," he murmurs, slumping down in his seat.

"Understanding of what?" she says through giggles, "That you have one of the most bat-shit insane middle names to ever exist?"

"It's not bat-shit insane," he defends, "I'm named after space-stuff. It's a family tradition."

"Space stuff?" Rose finds the whole thing incredibly amusing, "Let me guess, you have a cousin called Asteroid Belt?"

"Ha. Ha." He likes doing that deadpan thing, "No. Scorpius is a constellation, Hyperion is one of Saturn's moons, _and_ a Greek God may I add?"

"You may add, doesn't make your name any less funny."

He rolls her eyes at her and she pats his arm good-naturedly.

"Ok, I promise to keep your ridiculous middle name a secret," she concedes, "but I'm still gunna laugh at it every now and then."

"That's not very friendly," he mutters, side-eying her hard.

" _Friends_ are always nice to each other, _Best friends_ hang shit on each other all the time."

They both pause and consider the statement Rose has boldly just made. Scorpius looks at her, strangely hopeful.

"I'm your best friend?" he asks, voice quiet. Rose shrugs and tries to play the whole thing off as if it's obvious, as if it's casual and to be expected.

 _Which, spoiler alert, it's totally fucking not._

"I mean, I have a lot of family, they act like friends a lot," her voice lowers and she's uncharacteristically shy, "But I guess I have an opening for the position of best-friend-not-related-to-me. You're probably first in line for the role."

"Probably?" he's smiling at like he's privy to some joke that she isn't.

"Yeah probably," she nods over the Boom Mike-Mike who operates the boom mike (he doesn't find that title anywhere near as funny as Rose thinks he should), "You've got some strong competition from Boom Mike-Mike though."

Scorpius smiles and looks down at his paper.

"My friendship quiz will get me over the line I'm sure," he says it proudly and Rose is thankful he's changed the tone of the conversation back to something she's more comfortable with.

"We'll see." But they both know she's telling total lies. Rose doesn't have many friends that aren't family, so even if Scorpius isn't her _best friend in the whole world_ , he's probably the best friend that she's not obligated to be friends with. Which is kind of a big deal.

* * *

Quizzes kind of become their _thing_ , whether it's one he found online or the 'Getting to Know You' Quiz he wrote himself. Scorpius adopts a strategy she didn't think he'd ever consider, which is to own his ridiculous fascination with quizzes he finds all over the internet so openly that it's like she's the odd one for _not_ wanting to find out which kitchen implement she is.

"I'm a toaster," he boasts as he scrolls through the screen of the tablet on his lap, "I bet you'll be something bland. A knife block, perhaps."

"I hold power to end the lives of my enemies – I can agree with that."

"It also means the two of us together equals sparks," he has a very aware glint in his eye as he smiles at her. She throws a carrot stick at the screen and snorts at him.

"And death."

They do a few quizzes each night and debate the findings. If anyone had told her that she'd bond with Scorpius Malfoy over how their favourite fast foods dictates how they rate as a sexual partner, she would have laughed in their face and called the appropriate authorities to have them assessed for some kind of disorder. Yet here she is, fervently arguing that it absolutely wasn't her preference for olives on pizza that resulted in her being deemed 'a cold fish'.

"Well if you ever want some pointers from ' _A Verified Sex God_ ', Rosie, you know where I am."

She doesn't blink at the offer of sex – even if it was incredibly tongue-in-cheek – just like she doesn't get affronted when he calls her Rosie. Instead she just argues that he only got that title because he deliberately chose the 'hot' foods when she knows damn well he can't handle his chilli.

She can't remember why or when she learnt that.

* * *

The last person he speaks to each night is Rose Weasley.

He could get used to this.

* * *

The last day of filming for the _Kingdom_ franchise comes on December 21st and Rose could not be more excited. She's skipping down the fake street of the fake town they're pretending to be in, humming _We Wish You a Merry Christmas_ , and smiling at everyone she passes. She just really loves Christmas.

Going past the fake bakery with the fake baked goods in the window, Rose spots Scorpius sitting at the table and chairs set up in front of the fake restaurant next door. He looks a bit out of it, a book in his hand that he very clearly isn't reading. Rose decides no one should look so sad so close to Christmas, so she skips over to him to spread some yuletide joy. He looks up at her when he hears her approaching.

"Two whole months break!" Rose squealed with childlike excitement, "I am so ready for Christmas!"

She notices that Scorpius barely cracks a smile at the prospect of getting a holiday for basically the first time in like 4 years. She cannot understand how he isn't ecstatic.

"Soooo," she drops herself into the seat next to him, "What are your plans for Christmas? Spending time with your folks?"

He breaks eye contact to look at the ground.

"No. No I won't be at the Manor this year," his voice sounds hollow, it has her on edge, "Mother's going to stay at my Aunt's place while my father is upstate for a while."

" _Upstate?"_ Rose scoffs and tries to make a joke, "Sounds like rich-people rehab."

Silence. A long, cold silence that fills your lungs and steals your breath. Rose realizes too late just how much she's put her foot in it. And just how unfunny her joke was.

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry Scorpius. I didn't think. I didn't mean-"

"It's ok," his smile is weak and unconvincing, "You're right though, it is rich-people rehab. Everyone there is just 'eccentric' rather than 'mentally unwell'."

She knows he's trying to make light of a serious situation. Rose has never felt less like laughing.

"So your dad…" she leaves it open ended and he gives her a little nod.

"Has admitted that he has to continue fighting his problem? Yes." He keeps nodding absently and Rose gets the feeling he's talking to himself as much as he's talking to her, "It's a good thing; better he acknowledge it than try to go on pretending he's ok." _When he's obviously not,_ is left unsaid, but heavily implied.

Rose doesn't believe him when he says it's a good thing – it doesn't help that it doesn't sound like he believes it either. She turns herself to face him more, tries to get a better look at his face. He keeps trying to hide from her but she reads him better now. His guard is up, but she knows where all the kinks in his armor lie.

"I thought he had gotten better."

"He had," he lets out a shaky breath, "Mother thinks the visit to the set put him backwards. He realized all he'd given up. It drove him back to his vices."

Rose remembers all the things she thought about Draco being cold and stern. It breaks her heart to now know what was going through his mind. She wants to reach out to Scorpius. She wants to wrap her arms around him and hold him close and tell him it's going to be ok. She wants to wind back the clock and make Draco Malfoy stop himself from ever taking this path. She wants to do anything at all that will make the man in front of her feel better.

"I don't…" her voice breaks and she feels helpless, "I don't want to keep saying 'I'm sorry' because it feels so empty but I just…I just don't know what else to say."

Scorpius shrugs and gives her another sad, unconvincing smile. "There's nothing to say. He's unwell, so he's getting treatment. It's just a fact of life."

 _No, it's a fact of your life. And I really wish it wasn't._

Scorpius shakes himself off and lets out a heavy breath before turning to face her properly.

"So my break will be spent anywhere I damn well please," he's injected some emotion back into his tone and is doing a fine job at brushing off their previous conversation like it never happened. Rose doesn't buy it for a second.

"By yourself?" she questions; he nods, "It sounds lonely."

He lets out a melodious, very put-on laugh. "Rose, I am one the biggest movie stars in the world! I have more money than any sane person should have access to, and a private jet at my disposal – I will never be short of people willing to occupy my time."

She tries to smile, she really does, but she feels herself fail. He continues to attempt to convince them both he's going to enjoy his holidays.

"Maybe I'll travel somewhere nice and hot, get away from this blasted cold," it's not _really_ cold, after all they're in California, but she gets what he means, "Maybe I'll visit the famous Australian beaches, or spend my days lazing away at a resort in Bangkok. I could go to Budapest! Bucharest! Monaco! Montreal!"

He throws his hands in the air with a dramatic flair.

"I can spend my days travelling to every end of the world and there would always be people to meet me, Rose," his smile softens as he meets her eyes, "So don't worry about me. I'll find ways to enjoy my holiday."

Throughout his grand speech all Rose can think is that it's another one of his brilliant performances. She doesn't think she's heard anything so sad in quite a while. She thinks of her Christmas, how she'll spend it surrounded by people she loves and people who love her, not because she's famous, just because she's Rose. She thinks its unfair he doesn't have the same.

And that's probably why she makes the offer she does.

"You know, there's always room for one more at the Weasley Christmas," he looks at her with something akin to awe in his eyes, "In case Budapest falls through."

She shrugs, feeling uncomfortable and unsure what his reply will be.

"It's nothing fancy – just whatever Dad manages not to burn," she starts rambling and can't maintain eye contact anymore, "The Potters will be there too. You have to wear an ugly Christmas sweater, but I can let you borrow one of mine if you like. You wouldn't have to stay the whole break, I won't be staying longer than a fortnight, but if you wanted to spend Christmas eating dry turkey and singing Christmas carols off-key, we'd be happy to have you. You're probably the only one who can hold a tune so you'd be a welcome addition."

Scorpius stares at her silently, blinks a few times, but otherwise doesn't respond. Rose smiles and decides it's probably time she take her leave.

"Just know that the offer's there if you want it."

She gives him a reassuring pat on the knee before standing and walking back to her trailer. She's no longer skipping.

* * *

She gets the call just as she's about to head down to the car that's waiting to take her to the airport. This time he actually does open with a greeting.

"Hi," Scorpius says in a puff of air and Rose can already tell he's nervous. Which is weird because that basically never happens.

"Hi!" she sounds extra chipper, "What's going on?"

"Nothing…nothing," there's a bit of a pause and she can basically hear him thinking from the other end of the line, "It's just ah…my plane's been delayed. Cancelled, actually." He adds the correction as an afterthought.

Rose knows its bullshit; Scorpius flies on a private jet that literally only carries him. The only reason it would be delayed or cancelled is if he asked for it to be. She doesn't say that though.

"Oh," she tries to sound like she believes him, "So you're not going to Budapest, or Bucharest?"

"No," he all-but stutters, "Not at this stage."

There's a heavy silence and Rose is tempted to make her offer again, to tell him she'll come and pick him up. But maybe that's not why he's calling. Maybe something terrible has happened. She doesn't want to jump to conclusions, so she just waits for him to continue.

"And, um, the thing is, I was wondering," Rose has the fleeting thought that Scorpius sounds kind of adorable when he's flustered, "If the offer to join you and your family still stands?"

Something in her chest does a cartwheel and Rose can feel herself smiling.

"Of course it does!"

"I wouldn't stay long," he rushes to say, "Probably just until Boxing Day. I'm sure the flight will be rescheduled by then."

Rose is sure the flight could be rescheduled in a heartbeat and he could be leaving within the hour, but she doesn't say that. She just smiles some more and tells him it's fine, that she'll pick him up in 40 minutes.

He sounds relieved when he sighs, "Thanks. I'll see you then."

* * *

Rose calls her mother from the back seat of the car.

"So, um, can we add an extra person to Christmas dinner?"

There's a moment wherein her mother holds her breath; Rose can practically hear Hermione telling herself not to overreact or show too much excitement.

"That won't be an issue," Hermione eventually answers too cheerfully, attempting to shield her curiosity and enthusiasm. Rose is anticipating a follow up question, and in 2.5 seconds she gets it.

"Am I allowed to know our additional guest's name?"

Rose answers quickly in an attempt to make the whole thing appear very nonchalant. She suspects she fails ( _Why is it that she can't manage to act to her parents?)_

"His name is Scorpius. Scorpius Malfoy," she clarifies, you know, in case her mother thought she'd be inviting that _other_ Scorpius.

How ridiculous.

Rose's response is met by an uncomfortable silence as her mother processes the information. Rose gets prepared to start defending her request and their potential guest. She gets prepared to tell them it's because he's not as much of an asshole as he used to be, in fact it kind of adds to his weird charm. She starts to say that he's just lonely – incredibly lonely – and he's going through a bit of a rough patch and right now he needs a friend and that's what she is so that's why she told him he could come with her for the holidays. She gets prepared to tell her mother emphatically that he is not his father, in fact he's trying to do absolutely everything he can to _not_ become his father, and that none of them have the right to judge him before they meet him. She gets prepared to tell them that if they won't allow Scorpius in the house then they better set the table for one less because she won't be there either.

But before Rose can start spewing her semi-prepared speech, Hermione responds cheerfully and catches her completely off guard.

"Does he eat lamb, because that's what your father's hoping to cook?" Hermione pauses briefly before she begins to prattle on, "Actually, come to think of it, better make sure he eats turkey because knowing your father the lamb will be barely edible. We're also having a vegan option for Lily. So there will be plenty for him to choose from, but I'd like to make sure he's accounted for. Can you check for me, darling?"

Rose is beaming like an idiot and nods slightly. "I'm sure that will be fine mum. Thank you."

"No bother!" her mother chirps perhaps a tad too happily, "It's an extra set of cutlery and a plate. Hardly a fuss."

Rose smiles to herself and is about to hang up when her mother adds a final request.

"Oh and Rose?" Rose held her breath.

"Yes?"

"Just make sure he knows the rules – no ugly sweater, no desserts."

Rose chuckles and nods even though her mother can't see her, "I'm sure he can manage that."

It's not until later, just as she's drifting off into unconsciousness on the plane that she acknowledges that she had been prepared to fight her family for Scorpius Malfoy. She slips into a deep sleep soon after, which was fortunate – had she realized a moment earlier she probably would have been up all flight thinking about it.

* * *

As soon as he sees the house he knows he's made a mistake. He shouldn't intrude on her family, should never have accepted her offer.

Hermione Granger is the first he sees, swinging the door open and smiling at him as widely as possible. If they ever made a movie about grown up Disney Princesses, he's sure she would star. Hermione literally welcomes him with open arms and shows him into the house.

It's large, but it's not as extravagant as The Manor. There are photos covering the walls, but instead of the photos from films and tv appearances that appear throughout his family home, theirs are of birthday parties and backyard shenanigans. There are no professional headshots to be found here, just photos of families being families. It becomes even more strikingly apparent that he and Rose had vastly different childhoods.

The house is full of laughter and noise, with someone yelling " _You can't phone a friend when you're going for a piece of pie, Hugo! Put it back!"_ It makes something in his chest flutter.

Hermione calls out to the house that Rose and Scorpius are here and he feels his throat tighten. He's about to be overwhelmed by Weasleys and Potters and he honestly just wants to run out the door and back to California.

He feels something grab his hand. Rose. Rose is holding his hand. His gaze meets her own.

"I apologise for how loud things are about to get," she says with a smile, "Just remember, if anyone gives you shit, give it right back."

She squeezes his hand. He squeezes back.

And then he's surrounded by bespectacled brunettes and red-headed folk that all insist on hugging him and it's so wholesome that he finds it a little difficult to breathe. But Rose is still holding his hand. So he might just make it

* * *

After the introductions are done – so a good hour after they arrive – Rose takes Scorpius up to the room he'll be staying in on the third floor. Her mother's thought it through; has given him a room that's a bit removed from everyone else's " _just in case he needs a break from us all"_ she says with a smile and sincere laugh.

Scorpius is obviously exhausted and a bit overwhelmed by everything. He's not said much since he got here, and she has to concede that meeting all the Weasleys and Potters in one sitting is certainly a feat. Perhaps she hadn't thought through her offer very well.

"Your family are very nice," he says overly politely. Rose laughs.

"If by nice you mean _loud_ , then yes, they are." He cracks a smile and sits on the bed. Rose goes about opening doors and curtains to let in some light.

"You've got your own ensuite so you won't have to worry about trying to hold your breath after Hugo takes a shit. And you can hang anything you like in the wardrobe – nothing in there gets used anymore anyway."

She continues around the room, pointlessly readjusting things and brushing non-existent dust off shelves. She keeps prattling on about her family and tells him not to get insulted by anything they say, and that if someone randomly jumps on him just punch them in the stomach. Rose realizes perhaps too late that her family sounds quite psychotic.

"Rose," his voice comes from behind her and she startles a bit. She turns to face him and he's towering over her as always. Without saying a word, Scorpius Malfoy envelopes her in a tight hug that's warm and wonderful and all the things a good hug should be.

"Thank you," he murmurs into her hair as he rests his head atop hers. She buries her face in his shirt, wraps her arms tightly around him and settles in.

"Any time," she smiles when she adds, "That's what friends are for."

He kisses her head again, but this one feels different from the ones in front of the cameras. His hand rubs circles on her back, and his lips linger longer than what might be considered polite. Rose just snuggles in further and gives him a squeeze, her hands making patterns of their own. She may not be able to fix his family, but she can make him a part of hers.

This she can give him, and she gives it to him willingly.

* * *

Rose is giving him a tour of the property when she is suddenly not at his side anymore. Instead, she's been flung half way across the yard and is rolling through the snow in a ball of limbs and cries.

"A-ha! Got you Rose!" a male voice cries.

"It doesn't count if you don't pin, Hugo!" she fires back as she wrestles with her brother, a tangle of too-long lings and red curls. Scorpius wants to help her, but he gets the distinct impression she doesn't need it.

"So," Lily Luna Potter materializes beside him and _holy shit do these people not make sound when they walk,_ "You're the totally-platonic co-star that my cousin keeps going on about."

Rose talks about him to her family. This makes him happier then it probably should. And why did she say 'totally platonic' like it was a lie?

"Yes."

He really needs to learn how to converse without a script.

"Right," Lily side-eyes him and he feels like she can see through him, "So you and Rose are just friends."

"Yes."

"Just friends that kiss a lot."

"For our movies, yes."

"Just friends that spend Christmases together."

"This Christmas, yes."

"Just friends who look at each other lovingly when you think no one's looking?"

Scorpius blanches. He's been discovered.

"Word of the wise, Malfoy," she says his name with no hint of disgust, only fondness. It's odd coming from a Potter, "In this household, someone is _always_ watching."

He's about to respond, to ask her what she means by that, but his attention is drawn away by a high-pitched squeal. He turns to see that Rose has her brother locked in a body scissor hold, smiling maniacally as he futilely tries to free himself.

"Tap out Hugo!" she cries victoriously, "I've won!"

"Never!"

Her family is insane. He thinks he loves them.

Or at least one of them.

* * *

Rose is back in the US by the New Year. Scorpius has gone to visit his mother at his Aunt's place (" _fly in visit only, I'm not spending any more time with 'Dear Aunt Daphne' than strictly necessary_ "), and will then head over to Iceland to film a new post-apocalyptic film he's in. She tries not to think about how much she enjoyed having him with her over the break. Does her best not to think about how he joined in with their shenanigans and how he and Albus got on like a house on fire.

She's always been terrified of introducing anyone to her family, and Scorpius took it all in his stride. Her mother likes him; her father thinks he's a 'good kid'. Uncle Harry said he was an incredible talent and a really genuine guy. They all agreed he was nothing like his father, but other than that, Draco was never mentioned.

Rose is thankful Scoripus isn't in The States for a while; she needs a break from him. Because if she doesn't have a break she's going to keep thinking thoughts she really shouldn't be thinking. Like how he would make a great addition to the family. Like how she loved the feel of his arms wrapped around her. Like how she doesn't hate him at all anymore.

Rose is just walking out of her yoga class, calm, meditated and absolutely not thinking about a certain blonde, when she gets the text from Lily.

You perfect cousin _: I was gunna post this to Twitter, but I thought you might like to keep it for just yourself. Some moments are best kept between 'friends', right?_

A picture accompanies the text. It's of the entire family dressed in their horrible Christmas sweaters saying 'Cheese' around the table. Hugo's got breadsticks sticking out of his hair like devil horns, Albus looks cross-eyed, Hermione has blinked, and then there, right in the middle is Scorpius and her. She's smiling and looking at the camera, the happiest she can remember seeing herself in a long time. Scorpius isn't looking at the camera though; he's focused on Rose. They're holding hands on the table, and he's looking at her like she hung the stars.

Rose is glad Lily didn't upload the picture. It's a moment she wants to keep just for herself.

Between her and her _friend_ , Scorpius.

* * *

He's on location in Iceland, killing time and trying to force blood to circulate to his extremities again, when he gets her text.

It's a link to a site he recognises all too well. He presses it, and sees the words ' _Plan your ideal children's birthday party and we'll tell you which hygiene product you are'_ proudly emblazoned across the top of the page. Her second text comes through quickly.

Rosie Posie [14:05] _: $200 says you're shampoo._

He takes the quiz quickly and smugly responds.

Perfect Hair Boy [14:08]: _You owe me $200 Rosie._

He accompanies the text with a screen shot of his results as proof. Her response comes through in less than a minute.

Rosie Posie [14:08]: _CONDITIONER IS BASICALLY THE SAME THING._

Perfect Hair Boy [14:10]: _If that's what you truly believe, I suddenly understand why your hair was so awful at school._

Rosie Posie [14:14]: _You can't pick on me for that – it's genetics_

Perfect Hair Boy [14:15]: _So is mine, and you keep holding it against me. It's only fair I do the same_

Rosie Posie [14:17]: _I'm not holding it against you, I'm envying you. Two very different things._

Perfect Hair Boy [14:19]: _You shouldn't envy my hair. It wouldn't look right on you. You are your hair, and both you and it are perfect._

* * *

There's a long pause and Rose isn't sure how to respond. Two minutes later she gets sent a link – _Pick out a 90s outfit and we'll tell you which endangered animal you are._

Perfect Hair Boy [14:25]: _Double or nothing you're an Orangutan_

* * *

She's got one film in the pipeline to shoot after the franchise wraps and before _Beacon_ starts. It's a fantasy epic in which Rose plays a mischievous fairy that keeps trying to put love spells on people but gets it wrong. It's a fantasy comedy and Rose is looking forward to testing out her funny bone.

Right after she finds it.

The first day they put her in full make up and hair she bursts out laughing. Rose looks at herself in the white blonde wig and has thoughts of Iceland. They have somehow managed to make the wig the exact same tone as the Malfoys'. It's quite creepy actually.

Although it does look rather nice with her eyes.

Unable to resist the temptation, Rose pulls out her phone and snaps a quick selfie, deliberately pulling an exaggerated version of the smirk Scorpius has become so very renowned for. Satisfied with the ridiculousness of it all, Rose posts it to Twitter with the caption reading:

 _Stepped out of hair and makeup, and have apparently been the victim of a Freaky Friday. Like looking in a mirror, right therealScorpius._

She adds a quick tag for the movie, thinking she might be able to get out of trouble for leaking a picture of herself all done up in her costume if it gets them some media buzz (any publicity is good publicity as the old adage goes). Besides you can barely see anything apart from her face and part of her shoulders, it's not like she revealing the Holy Grail that is her beautiful fairy dress.

Kitty tracks her down between takes as she tries to munch on a piece of celery without ruining her lipstick (she's failing). Kitty, the efficient little dynamo that she is, has her phone in hand as usual, madly texting with apparently no effort. Rose has no idea how she doesn't misspell _everything_ when her fingers move so fast.

"I saw your tweet," Kitty says with an air of annoyance that isn't as severe as last time Rose posted to Twitter without her permission (apparently you're not allowed to have a picture with a can of Pepsi in the background if they haven't paid for it, because that's just free publicity that they don't need. Rose highly doubts anyone saw that photo and thought 'oh, better go buy some Pepsi', but that's not the point). Rose decides a subtle shrug is the least offensive response she can give.

"And you tagged Malfoy," Kitty looks up from her phone for one tiny moment to raise a faultless eyebrow at her. Rose assesses the woman's face as swiftly as possible and notes that she really doesn't seem to be very angry. Maybe Rose had done something right for once?

"Well if I didn't mention the similarities someone else surely would have," seriously, if you could win an academy award for acting in your day-to-day life than Rose would have a closet full by now. How she manages to not sound terrified is actually beyond her.

All she gets in response is an acknowledging hum as Kitty continues to tap relentlessly at her phone.

How has she not broken that thing by now?

Rose sits in silence, partly wishing that the director call her over and insist she reshoot every scene she's done so far because its got to be better than sitting here awkwardly.

"Did you see his response?"

No. No Rose had not seen his response. She had no idea he had had the time to reply, what with his schedule being what it was. And the way Kitty says it, like she really, honestly, isn't mad at all, has Rose wondering; what did he say?

 _Oh god what did he say?_

As if reading her thoughts – or perhaps just the horror dawning upon her face – Kitty hands over her phone to show the newest headline on TMZ about their "romance".

There's a picture of her tweet, complete with photograph, with Scorpius' response sitting right underneath.

 _MissRoseGW Well at least it proves our children will be beautiful. As if there was any doubt of that xo_

Rose chokes on her own saliva when she starts laughing. There's something in her gut that dances at the word _children_. Which is ridiculous. Because not only is she absolutely not ready for children, but also thinking about kids with Scorpius is beyond crazy. That would require them sleeping together. And that's not going to happen. Ever. Because that would means they'd be a family. _WHICH IS INSANE BRAIN, SO DON'T EVEN THINK ABOUT IT._

( _Too late.)_

"By the way," Kitty says emotionlessly as she shoots off a thousand emails at once, "start wearing Shapewear – everyone's going to think you're pregnant."

Shit.

* * *

 _ScoroseFan1: THEIR CHILDREN! IS SHE PREGNANT?!_

 _AllyandEli4eva:_ _Scorpius Malfoy: *says the word 'children' to Rose Wealsey* Me - *dies*_

 _ScorosetherealMVP: Ok guys, let's not get ahead of ourselves, let's all just remain calm and casually start assembling the sheet music for The Sound of Music so when their blessed children enter this world they can form a beautiful choir and travel the world melting people's hearts and stopping wars. Nothing too serious, guys, please control yourselves._

 _Scorose4Eva55839: They wouldn't need music – those children will end wars with nothing but their beautiful eyes._

 _ScorpiusMalfoyisaGod909: and their well-hydrated lips._

* * *

Rose is at a wrap party for her latest film, looking forward to the full three weeks break she gets before _Beacon_ starts filming. She's laughing with the rest of the young cast, all of them sharing horror stories from other jobs they've worked on.

She's getting a drink at the bar when a tall brown-haired, dark eyed man approaches her and introduces himself.

"Rose Weasley?" he asks her, obviously knowing very much who she is. She smiles politely and nods.

"That's me."

He returns her smile and holds out his hand.

"My name's Brian Wheeler," he makes a gesture to the room for no apparent reason, "I'm with _Dennison Holdings_."

Right. _Dennison Holdings_ – the financiers of the film. Kinda important. She better not fuck up.

Who is she kidding – that's what she does best.

"It's lovely to meet you," she sells the smile just like she sells everything else. He offers to buy her a drink and she accepts.

He's tall, dark and handsome. He's got dark eyes and a smile that doesn't make her stomach do flip-flops. He's got a strong American drawl and doesn't poke fun at her during their whole conversation. And by comparison, Rose is nothing but lovely and never once finds herself arguing with him or picking on him for his beautifully styled coif. ( _He doesn't even have a coif to pick on)_

Brian gives her his card, tells her to give him a call when she's next in New York; that he'd love to catch up with her sometime when they're not surrounded by so many people.

She doesn't dream of him and isn't left with a racing heart when he walks away from her. He's the exact opposite of what she craves. Which means he's probably exactly what she needs.

* * *

She sees Scorpius the first day on set and her stomach does backflips.

He smiles at her the moment he sees her and greets her with a hug and a kiss on the head.

They're entering dangerous territory. Rose gets the feeling she can't get any closer to Scorpius Malfoy. A boy like him with a smile like that will tear her apart.

* * *

 _Beacon_ is one of the most emotionally draining and physically demanding films he's ever done. It's full of heavy scenes that get into his head, with the occasional intense action sequence thrown in to keep him on his toes and covered in bruises.

He's constantly exhausted and considers several times throwing in the towel. But he knows this film is different – his performance is better than it's ever been. He's bringing Oskar to life (and eventual death because this movie does not have a happy ending), and he's selling the crap out of this. But he's so damn tired. So damn stressed. So stretched beyond his limits that it takes all he has not to walk.

If Rose Weasley wasn't here with him, he probably would have.

She's his life line in this. And he's never needed her more.

* * *

So, here's the thing. _Beacon_ is a film that pushes boundaries. It's artistic and it's beautiful and it's showing the purest and deepest of loves.

It also has a graphic sex scene in it.

Ok, so it's not porn-levels graphic. But it's graphic enough that it could end up getting an R-rating from the MPAA. They're doing a closed set shoot for it because Rose has to be very naked and so does Scorpius. And when she says naked she means it; they have 'modesty garments'…and that's it. Rose is not a good enough actress to convince herself she's not anxious about it. She can't decide what's going to be more mortifying – Scorpius seeing her (practically) butt naked, or seeing Scorpius (practically) butt naked. Thinking about it makes her heart race a bit, results in her getting short of breath as she thinks of all the horrible things that could happen. She blushes at her thoughts and can't stop herself getting anxious at the thought of it.

Rose can't risk screwing up the shoot – which is tomorrow – but she also knows very well that in her current state she's not much chance of getting through it without making an arse of herself. So she comes up with a cunning plan –

See Scorpius naked beforehand.

If she sees him naked now, then she'll have time to acclimatize to it, to get used to seeing all his man flesh, and will therefore not act like an embarrassed schoolgirl tomorrow. It's a solid plan, one she is on her way to putting into practice.

She's not going to randomly peak on him in the shower because she doesn't like the idea of a criminal record. No, she is going to be very adult and grown up about it; she is going to ask him. Plain and simple. She is going to walk into his trailer, ask him to strip, see him naked, then leave.

Easy Peasy.

In theory.

When developing her genius plan, Rose coincidently forgot that she's about as smooth as sandpaper when it comes to these things, so when she walks into his trailer and finds herself face to face with Scorpius, she can't actually say anything.

"Rose?" he questions her as she stands silently in his trailer, "Rose, are you having a stroke?"

"No!" she answers too quickly and too loudly, "No I'm just…"

 _Just hear to ask you to strip._

 _Seriously, how did she not have a speech prepared before walking into this?_

"You just?" he asks, eyeing her strangely. He looks too relaxed, too casual in his shirt and sweatpants. Nothing about this situation is casual.

With no idea how to deal with the situation, Rose goes with the bandaid philosophy – _Just get it over and done with._

She takes a deep breath and starts speaking, hoping whatever comes out of her mouth makes some kind of sense.

"Ok so I have a really strange, bordering on inappropriate request and it is 100% ok if you wanna say no, because you are totally entitled to that, but I'm going to ask you this thing anyway because it would honestly mean a lot to me and it would calm me down a lot if you said yes, but it's really personal and odd so I'll totally get it if you don't want to."

She is met with silence. It's not very reassuring.

* * *

Scorpius stares at her dumbly for a few minutes, wondering if she's possibly having some form of psychotic break he quite honestly thought she would have suffered years ago by now. In light of her silence – and furious chewing of her lip which he sorely wishes she would _cease_ as it makes his mind terribly cloudy – he tells her simply, "Ask away."

* * *

Rose fidgets, ringing her hands and looking very out of sorts.

"Well," she stumbled over her words, swallows and continues, "You know tomorrow we're going to be doing that ah, the _scene_."

"The sex scene," he supplies and notes that she blushes. He does his best to cover his smirk. He doesn't succeed.

"Yes, _that_ ," she pauses again, takes a deep breath and seemingly steals her nerves. And then she word vomits at a million miles per hour.

"The thing is tomorrow I'm going to see you basically naked and I'd like to spare myself the humiliation of totally freaking out about it in front of everyone so I was wondering if you, um…that is, if you wouldn't find it too intimidating…if um, if you wouldn't mind possibly getting naked now so I at least know what I'm in for and am less likely to make a fool of myself by blushing – like I am right now – in front of all the crew, and also then maybe I'll remember all my lines and won't stuff up as much so we won't have to be naked for as long so really it works in everyone's favour if you just get naked, please?"

Scorpius remains totally emotionless, holding her gaze to see if he can find any indication that she's lying or trying to con him. Rose is sure all he sees is sheer desperation – because that's how she's feeling, desperate. Rose can trust him not to call her on it now. She doesn't consider the implications of that because it would make him being naked a whole lot more complicated. And she really doesn't need that right now.

Rose rings her hands again as she holds her breath. She feels a right idiot and suddenly thinks this whole thing is ridiculous.

 _What are you doing? WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?!_

"You know what, just forget I ever said-"

She's halted in her attempt to lunge for the door and escape with perhaps a shred of her dignity by a hand gripping her wrist. Rose meets Scorpius' gaze and acquiesces when he pulls her away from the door. He advances towards the door slowly, flicks the lock, then returns to where he was standing right in front of her. Without looking away for a moment Scorpius Malfoy strips slowly – _very slowly -_ and Rose thinks it's entirely possible time has literally slowed down. He starts by removing his socks, which never in the history of ever has been a sexy movement but lo and behold, somehow Boy Wonder makes it look alluring. He kicks them aside and Rose tries not to find that attractive too.

Right bare feet. She can handle feet. Yep, she is totally a picture of composure right now. So far so good.

The shirt is next to go. He lifts it from his shoulders and pulls it off in one fluid movement. Then Rose can see all of the abs. All of the abs she has seen many times before but this time there aren't any cameras, and they're not filming, hell they aren't even speaking, and suddenly the appearance of abs feels a lot weightier that it ever has before.

She also notices that he has very nice collarbones. Collarbones. There's a kink she never thought he'd have.

Rose flicks her gaze up and sees him watching her, assessing her as she assesses him. Her face paints a clear picture of nervousness. He does his best not to smile but she sees the way the corner of his lip quirks up. He holds her gaze as his hands move – _really fucking slowly_ – to the zipper of his pants.

Right. Pants. This is new.

Is there no air in here, or is it just Rose?

They hold eye contact for the entire time he unzips his fly and pushes his pants down his legs. He steps out of them and stands in front of her in nothing but his briefs.

Rose suddenly thinks she could probably make a lot of people's fantasies more realistic if she confirmed to the world that Scorpius Malfoy is a briefs man.

There's a noticeable _bulge_ in his briefs and the reality of what is going to happen sinks in once and for all.

She's about to see Scorpius Malfoy naked. Ok remain calm. This is basically rehearsal, that's all. _Totally_ professional. Yep.

He's slow about it, deliberately so. Rose watches as he hooks his thumbs under the waistline of his underwear and drags them down his legs. He's still maintaining eye contact and Rose is too afraid to blink lest this all be a dream. He stands up straight, kicks his underwear away with the rest of his discarded clothing and stands in front of her, arms relaxed by his sides, and completely without even a shred of clothing.

She's not sure she's breathing.

Rose did her absolute best not to openly gape at Scorpius, and to keep her eyes firmly focused on his face, and definitely not anything south of the border. Even though that was kind of the whole reason she'd asked him to do this anyway. Oh lord she could feel the blush rising up her cheeks and her entire body heating.

"Of course tomorrow I'll be wearing a modesty garment," he glanced down at his junk, which of course drew Rose's attention there too.

 _Holy Merlin, she would ever refer to that part of his anatomy as 'junk' ever again._

She catches herself staring and quickly looks up. He's smirking at her and she knows all too well that she's been caught out.

"Right," she does her best not to stumble over her words, "So that you're…modest…"

He hums and she's willing to bet her salary that he deliberately made it sound like a purr just to fuck with her. Rose curses herself for getting herself into this situation – she's just standing here staring at a naked Scorpius Malfoy, what the hell was she supposed to do? How did she think this interaction was going to go?

Now that she thinks of it, she's pretty sure she never expected him to comply. At the most maybe strip to his jocks, but the full monty? She's not quite convinced she ever believed it would happen. Which leads her down the path of ' _well why did he agree to let you see him naked'_ which is a whole can of worms she has absolutely no plans to open so she'll just bury that question to the back of her mind to think about at incredibly inconvenient times, like say when she's trying to sleep. Yeah, that will be better for her sanity.

Rose starts to speak and just kind of hopes some sort of meaningful sentence miraculously makes its way out of her mouth.

"Right, well, thank-you for…" _making the already intrusive dreams of you all the more accurate and vivid,_ "You know…getting naked. I appreciate it."

Way to sound like a total perv. Abort mission. _Abort._

"So, now that I have seen…" _The Penis._ She can't say that, but she doesn't know what to say so she just stutters for a few minutes, " _You_. Now that I've seen you I'm just going to g-"

"Would you do me the same courtesy," he interrupts, looking up at her from under his stupidly long eyelashes, "Should I request it of you?"

"What?" she lets out an awkward laugh, "Get naked?"

He nods once.

"To prepare myself for tomorrow – yes."

She's can't be certain but she's pretty sure she's never heard him sounds so husky before. That, combined with the nakedness, is bad for her lady parts ( _read: it's really fucking good for her lady parts and that's a problem because they're friends and friends don't usually think of each other naked and doing sexy things together)_

"Oh sure," she scoffs in disbelief, "because you're going to freak out when you see me naked."

"I perhaps wouldn't use the term 'freak out'," he's doing that 'maintain eye contact and stare right into your soul' thing that throws her off-guard again, "but rest assured I am also fearful of how I may react upon seeing you in such a state. The modesty garment will not hide everything."

Rose lets the implications of that statement sink in. She tries really hard not to blush. And because she half Weasley, she fails terribly. Her instinct says she should say no, because two people just standing in a private area looking at each other naked sounds like a pretty perfect recipe for things to go really wrong, but it also does make sense. After all, she was the one who started this thing by accosting him in his trailer. She swallows hard and gathers every inch of confidence she doesn't have.

"…I guess it would only be fair…." She responds and notices that her voice sounds small.

Unlike Scorpius who took his goddam time removing every garment, Rose strips quickly and completely without finesse. She doesn't maintain eye contact, in fact she looks basically anywhere _but_ Scorpius until she's standing there naked in front of him. She expecting him to laugh at her, to tell her he didn't mean it and it was all some big joke of his, how funny. But he doesn't. There isn't a sound at all.

And here she finds herself, standing a mere 3 feet away from a butt-naked Scorpius Malfoy, as bare as the day she was born. When she finally looks at him she sees him unashamedly drinking her in. Rose notices that he certainly isn't _modest._ Once he's done committing every inch of her to memory, Scorpius' gaze meets her own.

More really uncomfortable naked silence. Rose really didn't think through her plan at all.

She doesn't know how much time has passed, but she does know that the 'see each other naked' request has officially been fulfilled so she can get dressed and hightail it out of there before anything else is said or done.

"Right, well, now we've both gotten naked, I can probably-"

"This isn't all we'll be doing," he cuts her off and she knows him far too well not to notice the challenging look in his eye.

"What?"

"We won't just be looking at each other," he takes a step closer and Rose finds half her brain praying he stops, the other half praying he move faster.

"We've kissed plenty of times," she says with an air of confidence she does not have.

"But that's not where this will end this time. This time we'll have to touch, to hold, to caress," she tries to stop the mental images of that flashing through her mind and fails spectacularly, "And we'll have to make it all seem believable. Do you think you can manage that, without practice?'

She scoffs and puts a hand on her hip. "Do you think _you_ can manage it?"

"Absolutely not," he shrugs, much too cheeky than anyone whose butt naked should be, "I definitely need the practice. After all, if I get this… _un-modest_ when I'm merely looking at you…" he makes point of looking at her entire body again, not an ounce of shame to be seen. Rose feels incredibly insecure and has to fight down the urge to cover herself. She doesn't miss how he flexes his hand by his side, "I hate to imagine what it will be like to kiss you, to hold you, like this, without any practice at all."

She knows he's playing her; knows that he's using it as an excuse to kiss her. Scorpius Malfoy has never needed to properly rehearse a day in his life; she sees absolutely no reason why he should need to start right now just because they're naked.

That said, Rose also remembers the first kiss they ever shared – her first ever – and what a disaster that was to perform in front of people. Maybe she needed the practice? Maybe practicing wouldn't be such a bad plan.

"Maybe we should, you know, _rehearse_ ," she phrases it almost as a question. He smiles and it's predatory and her breath hitches in anticipation. Scorpius takes another quick step towards her, now standing barely inches away from her. Rose isn't sure she's breathing.

His next words are whispered, "My thoughts exactly."

She's expecting rough. She's expecting unbridled passion (if she remembers correctly, that was the exact phrase in the script. Barf). She's expecting to have her mouth smashed against his in a bashing of lips and teeth. So you can imagine her surprise when he touches her face gently, cupping his hand around her cheek to dig his fingers into her hair. He leans in – much too slowly for her liking – and rubs his nose against her own, teasing her by keeping his lips just out of reach. The teasing is too much, it feels too real; she has to say something to back away from what is starting to feel like a much-too intimate situation.

"This isn't in the script," is all she manages (in a voice too soft and too husky and too _wanting_ to be able to convince anyone its fake). She feels him smile in response.

"This might be the only time I get to do this," and now he's whispering too and that's not good for her lady parts either, "I'm going to savour it."

"Savour what?"

" _You_."

And then he kisses her and they've done this before but this time it's different. The way his hand cradles her head, how he wraps his arm around her and pulls her close, something in the air, something in the way he sighs when he kisses her, something is different and Rose would be terrified if she wasn't getting so lost in how perfect it felt.

She shouldn't give into it – this feeling that's definitely not either of them acting – but she doesn't want to fight it, so Rose embraces the extra intimacy as she slides one of her hands around his waist to hold him close because she's worried if they lose contact he'll disappear and this will all be a dream as she delves her other hand into the hair at the base of his neck. She's pulled closer and the warmth of his body against her's lures her in, makes her feel safe.

It's not like when they film; when arms have to be placed _just so_ and you have to tilt your head _at this specific angle_ so the camera gets the right shot. There's none of that here. No direction, no feedback, no calculation. It's all just happening organically and Rose doesn't think she ever wants it to stop.

"Oh god Rose," he breathes into her hair before his mouth brushes against her neck.

"Tabitha," she corrects with a whimper, inhaling sharply when he sucks on her earlobe.

"No," his hand runs down her side, caresses her hip and holds her closer, "You're Rose. I'm Scorpius. This isn't acting."

That makes her pause, reminds her that she should stop this now because if it isn't acting then it's real and that makes this wrong. They don't end up together. They're too different. She's not the girl he falls for – graceful, beautiful Scorpius Malfoy doesn't end up with gawky, awkward Rose Weasley. Plus, co-stars sleeping together is messy.

But then he kisses her. And she knows he's right – this isn't acting. And she still doesn't want to stop. Instead she dives her fingers into his all too-perfect hair like she's wanted to do lately without having a director bark at her to do it differently. He turns her and walks her back towards the couch that's built into the wall. She drops on to, twists to lie down and he follows her down, lies between her legs and continues to kiss her.

Rose has never felt so alive.

Rose drags her nails down his back and smiles when he keens at the touch. She lets her legs fall open further as he lies between them, feels his thickness rub against the inside of her thigh. She lets his hand grope at her breast and lets out a startled gasp when he catches her unaware.

"Scorpius," she breathes his name just to say it and feel how it tastes to say it when they're both naked. It tastes good. She wants to keep saying it so she does, each incantation more breathless than the last. He seems to like it. A lot.

She drags her fingers through the hair at the base of his skull and he groans long and deep, hitching her leg over his hip. She rubs against him, unable to stop herself from seeking out friction and any relief she can muster. Scorpius continues to kiss her, continues to murmur to her that he can't believe this is happening.

"Say it again," he sounds like he's begging. It drives her mad with power, "Say my name again."

"Scorpius," she purrs with a smile and he groans, thrusts against her in what she feels was an involuntary action. She wants him to do it again.

There's something about the whole thing that feels like an ending – like they were always heading here and it's been inevitable the whole time. There's a finality to it all, and Rose has the obscure thought that if the world ended right now it would be fine. This feels like the end of something great, and the start of something better.

And with a sharp knock at the door, it does end.

"Malfoy, you in there? You're needed in makeup in 10!" one of the crew-members calls through the door, and that's enough to break their bubble. They both freeze. The crew-member calls out as an after thought, "They need Weasley too – she in there with you?"

She looks up at him and he's staring her right in the eye. There's something very important about this moment; they both know it. Either they say yes, and commit to whatever this is that's going on right now, or deny her presence and hide it away for good. Rose holds her breath, prays he'll make the decision for both of them. Hopes it's the one she wants him to make.

"No," Scorpius answers, still staring at her, "She's not here."

"Alright! Thanks!"

They hear the crew-member walk away and stay in silence for a moment longer. Rose releases the breath she'd been holding and tries to stop her lip from quivering.

Scorpius leans back, steps off her, stands and turns to start getting dressed. Just like that. Just like what just happened didn't happen. Which is probably for the best. They shouldn't have done what they did. All things considered they're probably lucky they got interrupted.

 _Then why does she feel like crying?_

Scorpius is silent and Rose is tempted to say something but can't think of what to say. She wants to ask what just happened, what does it mean, and if it changed anything between them. But she also didn't want to hear his answer; too scared that it might not be the one she wanted.

Rose comes to the stark realisation that she is still lying on Scorpius Malfoy's couch naked. That shouldn't be happening.

She hurries across to where her clothes sit in a pile and goes about methodically putting them back on, very consciously not looking at Scorpius whilst she does so.

Rose is done, only her jacket left when she turns to come face to face (or face to shoulder because she still didn't have her shoes on) with the man who was lying on top of her naked mere minutes ago. His face is impassive and blank, but his eyes bore into hers and she can tell he's looking for something. She's not sure what he's after so she just stares back at him as well, hands clenched at her sides to stop herself from reaching out to him, biting the inside of her lip to stop it shaking. Her blood is rushing and she either needs him to kiss her or leave right now because she feels like she's going to explode.

After a beat, he finally speaks.

"You should probably wait a few minutes before leaving," his voice is cold and Rose tells herself it doesn't hurt. She doesn't trust herself to speak, so instead she looks at the floor and nods in agreement. She watches as his feet disappear from her line of sight, and she hears the doors to the trailer open then slams shut.

In the few minutes she's left to sit in Scorpius' now empty trailer to think about just what the hell just happened, Rose can't stop her inner voice from spiraling out of control. She can't be known as _that girl –_ the one who gets into inappropriate relationships with their costars. And no matter what they think they might feel for each other, _they are friends_ and nothing more. She's not the type of girl that Scorpius Malfoy ends up with. Scorpius Malfoy ends up with someone composed and civilised, someone who looks beautiful on his arm and doesn't embarrass him in every waking moment. Someone who he doesn't argue with constantly. Scorpius Malfoy will end up marrying one of those beautiful women who sign his contracts, with legs up their eyeballs and more grace and dignity in their little finger than Rose has in her entire body. That's how his story ends – separate from hers.

Unsure, and uncaring if enough time has passed, Rose exits his trailer and rushes towards her own, desperate to get away from anything that reminds her of him.

It's at that moment that she realises there isn't much that doesn't.

* * *

He tries to calm himself down as he heads for hair and makeup. His heart is racing and he feels furious and dejected in equal measure. Like he could punch the sun whilst also wanting nothing more than to sink into nothingness in an instant.

He tries to shake the look of horror in her eyes when they were discovered out of his mind; tries to ignore the way she held her breath and silently begged him not to tell them she was with him.

Because he's such an embarrassment – a black mark on her untarnished record.

He would ruin her.

He wants to.

Scorpius remembers how she breathed a sigh of relief when he walked out the door, like she couldn't' wait to be free of him. Like she'd just realized her mistake when Scorpius thought they'd finally figured it all out.

He wants to forget it all; wants to forget the feel of her skin, the way his name sounded when she breathed it in his ear, how her nails dragged down her back, what she looked like naked beneath him, how it felt to be hers just for a second.

He wants to ruin her because she has ruined him, and it's only fair that he take his revenge.

He never could though. You don't ruin the people you love.

* * *

Turns out Rose shouldn't have bothered about the sex scene at all. It's a closed set with minimal crew and is possibly the least sexy scene to actually film. The director calls for a pause every two seconds, readjusts arms, gives strange directions like ' _thrust hard, but in a loving manner'_ , and orders them to kiss again because that last one ' _didn't look authentic enough'_.

They're basically naked and kissing. This is as authentic as it's gunna get buddy.

Scorpius doesn't say a word to her the whole time other than what is called for in the script and she doesn't speak to him either. The scene is finished and they walk away, separately, without a second glance.

Rose doesn't know what she expected to happen after she accosted her cast mate into getting naked and then made out with him, but whatever has happened she doesn't like it.

* * *

They haven't spoken in 5 days and it is just getting ridiculous. It's reminiscent of Hogwarts when they spent time actively pretending the other person didn't exist. Rose doesn't particularly want anything to remind her of Hogwarts, especially not when it comes to her relationship with Scorpius, She never realised how lonely she felt on set when she didn't have Scorpius to talk to between takes. She finds herself pouring all of her effort and emotions into her work, committing to portraying Tabitha as the damaged, hurt soul she is with as much authenticity as she can manage. She feels broken at the end of every day, and it drains her of every last spark of energy she has.

Scorpius seems to be doing the same thing; he's wrecked at the end of each day, the dark circles under his eyes a clear indicator of his fatigue. She's tempted to tell him to take better care of himself, but then she'd be the world's biggest hypocrite, and if there was anyone who would call her on that, it would be Scorpius.

She misses their arguments.

But on day five of silence Rose has had enough and makes a plan. She's going to talk to him and be an adult and absolutely _not_ jump his bones as soon as they're alone.

Nope. That's not going to happen.

She is going to walk up to him and say ' _hey, what happened to us being friends? Friends talk to each other. Also sorry about the naked incident.'_

Yeah, that sounds like a foolproof plans if ever there was.

Rose is on her way to his trailer at the end of a long day of shooting when she bumps into the stunning Kimberley Valentine. She almost doesn't recognise the model – she's so used to seeing her half-naked from her modelling shots that seeing her fully clothed is a bit of a shock to the system.

"Hi! Rose, right?" Kimberley asks, an older man with a briefcase at her side. Rose shakes herself and tries her best to be polite to the _Sports Illustrated_ alumni without blurting out something embarrassing like ' _My god you smell as beautiful as you look'_ , because Rose is making a conscious effort to _not_ sound like a serial killer.

"Yep," Rose answers, "Becky Valentine?"

The blonde hits her with her multi-million dollar smile and Rose is both envious and enamoured.

"That's right," she glances around the lot, "We're looking for Scorpius and his handler, Maxwell – do you know where we could find them?"

And then it clicks.

The model. The agent. The film set.

The fucking contract.

Becky must be Scorpius' newest girlfriend for hire, here to sign a contract. Rose takes her appearance as confirmation of what she was secretly dreading – that nothing has changed, at least not in the way she was hoping. He's still (fake) dating supermodels, and she's still just his co-star/friend that he kisses on the head for the cameras. There's nothing more between them. And there never will be.

Rose gives Becky directions and leaves her to find Scorpius in peace. Rose decides that maybe she doesn't need to make amends with him; as long as they can still work together that's all that matters.

She returns to her trailer and finds a message from Brian waiting for her. Brian, whose been messaging her since they met and has been nothing but pleasant to her. Brian, who is the opposite of Scorpius in every way.

Rose calls him, asks when he'll next be in California. They make plans to meet up and Rose decides she'll give it a shot with Brian. He's the kind of person that any girl can fall in love with. Surely she won't be any different, especially not if she's trying really hard to do so.

* * *

" _But how will you find me?" Tabitha's crying because the world's too big, and their time's too short, and she can't stand to watch him leave again._

" _The same way I always do," Oskar takes her hand and she sees he's shaking too. He places her hand over his heart, holds it there as his body begins to fade. He smiles at her like it's the last time he'll do it. Like he's saying good-bye._

" _Oskar?"_

 _His torso is fading._

" _I'll find you."_

" _Oskar!"_

 _He's barely more than mist in the air._

" _I love you, Tabitha."_

The audience at Cannes snuffles and tries to stop themselves from crying. Rose absently thinks Scorpius is becoming a far better actor than he used to be – she almost believes him when he says he loves her.

* * *

She finds him in the foyer – Scorpius hates watching himself back on film with other people around. He watches his films to critique his performances, not to enjoy them, and asserts that it's such a personal, intimate practice, that he doesn't want anyone else with him when he does it.

Honestly, Rose just thinks he feel awkward AF and chooses to avoid it.

He's pacing, ringing his hands uncomfortably. They both have a lot riding on this movie, but Rose is pretty sure he's going to be happy with what she has to say.

"They loved it," she breaks him out of his reverie and his gaze snaps to her, his grey eyes staring through her just like always.

"Who did? Did the judges like it? The distributors?" he's slightly manic and Rose doesn't blame him. She adopts a calming tone when she responds.

" _Everyone_ Scorpius," she smiles at him but he's still calculating the facts in his mind, "Literally everyone in that cinema is crying and they're already saying it could take the Palme d'Or. In fact they're saying it's the one to beat."

He nods absently and tries to process the information.

"We did it Scorpius," she affirms, a gentle smile reassuring him, "We nailed it."

Scorpius finally smiles at her and she can see it is out of relief rather than joy.

"We didn't fuck it up?" he asks, ever hopeful.

"Nope."

"We made _Beacon_ work?" happy disbelief rings through his tone.

"We sure did."

They smile at each other but he doesn't make to move towards her; just smiles at her from three feet away.

She feels like he's on the other side of the planet with how much distance there is between them.

"Good job, Weasley," he says with a smile that doesn't feel sincere. She wants to ask him what this means for them, but then she remembers that she has Brian now, he has Becky, and Brian is lovely, and her and Scorpius – whatever they ever actually were – aren't anything anymore. Now they're just two people. That's it. Two people that starred in some movies together and parted ways.

"You too, Malfoy."

She misses how it sounds when he calls her by her first name. She wonders if he misses calling her Rose.

* * *

He does.

* * *

" _Beacon_ is a combination of so many diverse universes that it just shouldn't work. Our protagonists are a combination of the desperate lovers of _Romeo and Juliet_ and the time-travellers wanting to save an already-doomed world of _12 Monkeys_. They're pursued across worlds by a detective having an existential crisis, in a way that is very reminiscent of _Blade Runner_ , and such a vast amount of time is dedicated to dialogue-free scenes that nearly a quarter of the film is silent. On paper, it's a mess. Yet as soon as the opening credits roll, we bare witness to one of the most stunning films ever made. Just like Oskar and Tabitha, you will re-live _Beacon_ over and over again. And you'll be all the better for it."

\- The Washington Post

"If you don't walk out of _Beacon_ crying, you are a robot."

\- The New York Times

" _Beacon_ tells us that the world will burn if Rose Weasley and Scorpius Malfoy get to live happily ever after. And anyone who's sat through a third of the film will tell you that's exactly what they're rooting for."

\- Empire Magazine

* * *

 _Beacon_ is making everyone's best-of lists. Some are calling it a modern masterpiece; others say they haven't stopped crying for days; nearly everyone is tipping it to take at least 4 Oscars. _At least_. The critics are calling Oskar and Tabitha's tale one for the ages that " _will rival Romeo and Juliet as the greatest tragic love-story of all time."_ It's right about the first time she sees a review that tips her as 'the one to beat' at this year's academy awards that it occurs to Rose that she is really being considered a "serious actor" for the first time in her life. She's not sure how to deal with it so she does the only thing that makes sense – she calls her mother.

Hermione laughs at her.

"Oh Rose, I stopped acting when I was 15, I don't know the first thing about being a ' _serious actor'._ None of us do!"

"Yeah but you're, like, you know…" Rose struggles to find the words, "A serious adult."

"I'm not _that_ serious."

"You know what I mean….like, an _adultier adult_ than I am. You can do the adulting. You adult well."

"Rose, honey, you have to relax. You've just got to keep doing what you've always done – trust your gut. And if at any time it doesn't feel right, you can pull the pin and come home."

"They're talking Oscars mum," she whispers it like it's a classified government secret, " _Oscars."_

Her mother is as graceful and calm as ever.

"They often do Rosie. You are extremely talented, and the praise is well deserved, but it's not everything. You've got to be happy with what you're doing Rosie – at the end of the day, that's all that matters."

And just like that, some of the weight lifts from her shoulders.

"You're so wise."

"It's because I do the good adulting."

Its times like these that Rose seriously thinks her mum might actually be a goddess. She really is the luckiest girl in the world to have such good support around her.

For a moment her mind wanders to Scorpius and she wonders how he manages to deal with everything without any support whatsoever.

Maybe he's a god too. It would explain the hair.

* * *

Albus Potter calls him and he's honestly not even sure how he got his number

"You know how you're going to win every award under the sun for _Beacon_?" Potter says nonchalantly.

Scorpius' heart jumps at the thought, but he manages to squash it back down rather quickly. "There is no guarantee of that."

"Yes there is – you're gunna win," Scorpius goes to deny it but Albus continues, "I have this idea about how you could accept the Golden Globe."

"Who says I'm going to-"

"You're going to win!" Albus says with such authority and certainty Scorpius wonders if he hasn't somehow managed to get his hands on the results. Which is ridiculous. No one gets to see the results. There wouldn't even _be_ results right now. But Albus' confidence is infectious and Scorpius can't stop himself from imagining what it would be like to be standing in front of that crowd, holding that statue, and seeing it on the big screen – _Scorpius Malfoy_. A family redeemed.

"And I have this idea I think you should consider."

Scorpius sits down at his desk and feels himself smiling.

"I'm listening."

* * *

The Golden Globes host says her and Scorpius' name and Rose holds her breath, waiting for them to be thoroughly roasted.

" _Scorpius Malfoy and Rose Weasley are here everyone!"_

The room cheers and claps politely. Knowing the cameras are on her, Rose pastes on a smile. Scorpius doesn't bother. He can get away with not smiling; it just looks like he's brooding. If Rose doesn't smile she gets a serious case of Resting Bitch Face, so smiling is her only option if she wants to avoid claims that she's a diva on-set.

" _And they're here with their partners…"_

Rose holds her breath.

" _Otherwise known as THE TWO MOST HATED PEOPLE ON THE PLANET!"_ the room laughs and Rose laughs with them, " _Didn't you see Beacon? They have to be together! Just let them be together! Stop keeping them apart you monsters!"_

The host moves on to someone else and Rose holds Brian's hand under the table. She gives it a reassuring squeeze – this is how these things always go. It's nothing to be concerned about. It means nothing; they're just very good actors.

* * *

"… _Scorpius Malfoy, for Beacon!"_

The room erupts in cheers and Scorpius finds himself blinking stupidly for a few minutes.

He won. He actually fucking won.

He consciously keeps his smile at bay, steps out of his seat and accepts the hugs and handshakes from people around him that he can't see through the haze of glory.

Scorpius makes the short trip up to the stage (because he was tipped to win and winners don't get sat in the back rows), and soon finds himself at the podium holding an actual, real life, Golden Globe.

It's lighter than he expected.

Scorpius pulls his prepared speech from his jacket pocket and addresses the audience. Holy shit the room looks bigger from up here.

There's movement out of the corner of his eye but he ignores it – it's probably just a cameraman.

" _Wow. This is…this is such an honour…"_

"Hey you!"

Scorpius looks to the bottom of the stairs where Albus Potter in all his crazy-haired glory is stumbling dramatically up the stairs.

"Potter?" he murmurs and it's caught by the microphone, projected to the room whose watching with bated breath.

"That's my golden statue!" he's swaying so dramatically it's very obviously fake, plus he's wearing a microphone so everyone can hear, "I deserve that!"

"You don't even act, Potter."

There's a pause. Albus – the genius – eyes the crowd comically, acting like he's been caught off-guard. The crowd laughs nervously.

"Yeah, well, I want it! Give it to me!"

Security edges in. Albus yells loud enough for everyone to hear, "Don't you touch me! I'll sue you all if you touch me!"

He's taken out the expletives but everyone catches the reference, laughs as Albus stumbles his way to the top of the stairs. Scorpius raises an eyebrow.

"If you want this statue, you're going to have to pry it _from my cold dead hands!_ "

The crowd cheers. They love this.

It's about to get better.

"That can be arranged!" Albus draws a wand just like his father used in the film _Order of the Phoenix_. More cheering, lots of applauding too.

"You leave my co-star alone!"

Rose Granger-Weasley has joined the fray, standing at the bottom of the stairs, hands on her hips and looking as formidable as ever. The crowd applauds.

"Stay out of this, _Weasley!_ " Albus sneers. Scorpius has a horrifying moment when he realizes that's how he treated Rose for years. He's embarrassed at himself.

"That's _Granger-Weasley_ to you, Mister!" Rose marches up the stairs, "And if you don't stop this…I'll tell your mother!"

"But Roooooose," Albus whines and stomps his foot. Seriously, the guy should consider getting into acting, he is wasted in costume design.

"No, you're being mean," Rose has her hands on her hips and looks formidable, "Scorpius won that fair and square!"

"I don't care! I want it!"

Albus casts the same spell his father did in _Order_. Nothing happens.

"You know that magic isn't real, right?" Scorpius asks Albus, eyebrow raised.

"STOP CRUSHING MY DREAMS MALFOY!"

Albus abandons his wand, and throws an exaggerated punch. Malfoy dodges it, throws one at Albus who pretends to get hit.

Rose screams hysterically as she runs up the stairs to join them, "No! Stop it! Stop fighting!"

The big crescendo – Albus runs at Scorpius, who twists at just the right time to see Albus connect with Rose and dive off stage with her in his arms.

They fall perfectly into the waiting crash mat.

Security pretends to carry Albus out of the room as the crowd cheers.

"You'll never work in this town again, Potter!" Scorpius yells after him, shaking his fist in the air. The crowd cheers and laughs. Scorpius jogs down the stairs to help Rose up from the crash mat. She brushes off her dress (not the one she wore to the red carpet – this one had to be fall-proof) and courtesies to the crowd. Scorpius pulls her in for a quick kiss to her cheek, and as their faces are pressed together Rose whispers, "I am so proud of you."

She smiles at him and runs off to the side of the room where the organisers are waiting to take her backstage.

Scorpius gets back up on stage, his time to deliver a speech basically non-existent after their little stunt. It's worth it though.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, I would like to thank everyone who made _Beacon_ possible – this award is as much for all of you as it is for myself. I couldn't have done it without you. Thank you to our wonderful director – Ansel – and the casting director – Meghan Watershore – for giving the two kids from that magic movie a go," he needs to get off the stage, but he can't leave without sending out a quick shout out to the two people who just helped him deliver one of the most memorable skits of Golden Globes history, "And to Albus Potter and Rose Granger-Weasley – thank you both for meeting a man called Malfoy and not immediately kicking him in the balls. Me, and my balls, definitely appreciate it. Thank you!"

Their moment is on all the highlights reels of the night. Rose gives interviews afterwards, proudly boasting that she does all her own stunts. Albus laughs with reporters, says it's a bit of fun between friends – because that's what they all are. Scorpius is candid, tells the press core exactly what the motivation behind the skit was:

" _It was important for us to show that even though that moment that involved all our families has tarnished the awards seasons for over 20 years, we're passed that. Everyone should be passed that. This is a new era, we're all different people, and if we can't laugh at things like that then there's no hope for any of us."_

His mother calls to congratulate him, she cries for the entirety of the phone call. His father sends him a text, tells him he's never been prouder, and thanks him for what he did for both of them. Scorpius allows himself to cry for the first time in a long time.

* * *

The skit is all over the news and media for the next few days. It has the unfortunate consequence of bringing up footage of the original incident again, but Rose was fairly confident that would have circulated if Scorpius had won anyway.

She's watching a play through of their performance when she hears something beautiful.

" _The performance was a throw back to when Scorpius Malfoy's father, Draco, infamously crashed the stage during Harry Potter's Oscars acceptance speech over twenty years ago…"_

 _Scorpius Malfoy's father._

They no longer called Scorpius _Draco Malfoy's son._ Now, Draco was _Scorpius Malfoy's father_. It showed a shift in public perception, one that was long overdue.

He did it; the chip on his shoulder finally paid off. Rose is indescribably happy for him.

She doesn't call him though. She;s not sure if she can anymore.

* * *

He's holding an 8 and a half pound golden man with his name on it, and he can't believe it.

 _Academy Award_

 _To_

 _Scorpius Malfoy_

 _Best Performance by an Actor in a Leading Role_

' _Beacon'_

He stares at it while he sits backstage after the press conference and the acceptance. He can't quite bear to go back out to the crowds just yet. Maxwell finds him, runs towards him screaming.

"There he is! _Oscar winner_ Scorpius Malfoy! You fucking beautiful man!"

Maxwell's face is flushed and he's very clearly drunk, but when he wraps Scorpius in a hug he doesn't protest.

"You did it, man!" Maxwell says as he claps him on the back so hard his shoulder stings, "You _fucking did it_!"

All he has to offer his handler is a weak smile. Maxwell sees through the façade in an instant.

"What is it? Why aren't you happy?" he asks the questions as if he's interrogating Scorpius, "Did someone say something? _If some little fucking punk said something to you then I will hunt them down and rip their ears right out of-"_

"Relax Maxwell!" the man hated his name being shortened, "No one said anything. I'm happy, that's all."

"You look pretty fucking depressed for a man who's so happy."

Scorpius considers lying, considers putting on a brave face and telling him that everything really is fine and that there's nothing to worry about, and let's do this horrendous press tour that's waiting for them!

But he doesn't feel like acting anymore. He wants to tell someone the truth and he wants them to hear him.

"It's just ironic, is all," Scorpius makes eye contact with Maxwell who doesn't get what he's alluding to, "I got an Oscar for pretending to be someone who loved Rose Weasley."

Scorpius feels his cold exterior slipping so he looks to the floor to try and gather some composure.

"I didn't have to act at all."

Maxwell says nothing, just throws his arm around Scorpius' shoulder and directs him to sit in the chair he was hiding in before Maxwell discovered him. They sit beside each other in silence for a long while, Maxwell glaring at anyone who dared approach them.

"You deserve that award. Scorpius," he says quietly and with sincerity, "And if she walks away from you, then its not you that's unworthy, it's her."

It's hard to see your own self-worth when you're so blinded by someone else's perfection though. Just like it's hard to appreciate the magnificence of the ocean when you're drowning in it.

"Come on," Maxwell claps him on the shoulder, much softer this time, "There's a whole world out there who wants to talk to the greatest actor of the year."

Maybe that is true – he did deliver some brilliant performances this year. It's just that it wasn't the stuff that was caught on film.

* * *

" _Rose Jean Granger-Weasley, will you marry me?"_

She stares at the rock – because seriously that is the biggest goddam diamond she's ever seen in her life – and her heart stops.

Her and Brian have been dating for ten months. And yes it's been a whirlwind, and yes she loves him, and yes she feels comfortable with him and no there is nothing about him that she would change.

But getting married? Already?

Rose doesn't want it to seem like she's hesitating, but its also kind of a big fucking deal to commit to someone like that. She looks in Brian's sweet eyes, with his easy smile, and his effortless kindness. Brian is exactly the kind of person any mother would want their daughter to marry. Brian is the kind of man any woman would be lucky to have.

And he's asking her.

" _Yes,"_ she hears herself say, " _Of course I'll marry you!"_

They embrace and he kisses her, and her hand feels heavy with the weight of the ring and it's implications. She is engaged. She will marry this man. And she will be happy.

Because if she can't make herself be happy with Brian, then there's no hope for her at all.

* * *

" _We're engaged!"_

His heart simultaneously skips a beat and jumps up to lodge itself in his throat. He wants to vomit but he's halfway down a river in the African jungle for his newest film and he has a legitimate fear that if he gets too close to the edge of the boat something might eat him. He manages to choke out a response.

"Engaged?"

"Yeah."

There's silence and he is in too much shock to act polite.

"But you've only been dating for 10 months."

Her tone is sharp.

"Sometimes the it's just a matter of the timing being perfect."

Yes, and sometimes it's a matter of the timing being completely, horribly, really fucking _wrong_. He blurts out one of the first things he can come up with that isn't, ' _he's not right for you. I am.'_

"The fans will be devastated."

He can picture her bristling as the other end of the line as she bites out a reply he's fairly sure is through gritted teeth.

"I'm not getting married for the fans, Scorpius."

The sun is hot and the air is thick and he thinks he's going to collapse (and he's fairly sure it has absolutely nothing to do with the weather).

"No, of course not," he pauses and tries to sound sincere and hide the quiver in his voice, "Congratulations to you both. I'm very happy for you."

No he's not. He's furious. He's devastated. All his brain keeps shouting is _'it should be me.'_ He has to end this conversation quickly before he can't stop himself from saying it.

"I'm about to enter a dead-zone, so I'm going to lose reception. We'll talk more later, though. Again, congrats."

They don't talk later. They barely speak for a year. He'll make up an excuse for why he won't be able to make the wedding; tell her that he's filming and he can't get out of it. The truth is he can't watch her walk down the aisle unless he's waiting for her at the other end. He wouldn't be able to be a bystander at Rose Weasley's wedding.

So he won't go at all.

* * *

 _But love turned into games,_

 _And games turned into heartbreak._

 _And heartbreak turned into war._

 _And if I'm correct you used to tell me,_

" _Darling, all is fair in love and war."_

 _World War 3 – Ruth B_

* * *

 _So that's the next 20,000 words. Act 3 will take longer to upload, but it is coming. Thank you to everyone who showed their support - each and every one of you keep me going and I love you all. Grae xo_


	4. Act Three

**Author's Note:** Important change - I have changed the last few lines in the previous chapter to explain that Rose is not yet married. So where we pick up in this chapter, Rose is engaged and Scorpius is angsty. I heard your comments and realised Brian wasn't really developed or meaningful in any way. So here's a chapter that is necessary but isn't going to be anyone's favourite. Act 4, the final chapter, will hopefully be up sooner rather than later.

* * *

 **Act Three: In Which A Good Man is The Wrong Man**

" _I feel bad inside knowing this was built on lies. I feel like an awful person, cause at the end of the day we're forcing a love that don't exist" – Unrighteous, Ruth B_

* * *

 _Scorosefan1999 –_ SHES MARRYING SOMEONE ELSE?! HOW IS THIS HAPPENING? I HONESTLY DON'T EVEN KNOW HOW TO FEEL RIGHT NOW

 _AliandEliOTP101 – I know how to feel. LIKE A GIANT HEARTBROKEN EMOTIONAL WRECK_

 _AnythingyoucandoScorosecandobetter – A Title for Traitors can be Rose Weasley's autobiography for so callously abandoning the fandom like that. HOW COULD SHE DO THAT TO US? HOW COULD SHE DO THAT TO SCOROSE?!_

 _Kingdomofcowardsismyhighschool – Let this day go down in history as the day that Rose Weasley broke everyone's hearts and had the entire Scorose fandom institutionalized with severe depression_

 _ScorpiusMalfoyisagod909 – I swear to the holy spaghetti monster, if this isn't revealed to be some big joke then I am gunna start punching people_

 _ScorosetherealMVP – I don't care who this Brian Wheeler is but he doesn't have well-hydrated lips so he's clearly not the best choice here_

* * *

Scorpius predicted it well – the fans are devastated.

Rose has tried her best to stay removed from all the 'fandom' stuff over the years but the ever-helpful Lily feels the need to update her with 'hilarious' comments from random internet people neither of them have ever met.

Rose has a sneaking suspicion that she could classify Lily as part of the group of devastated fans.

They're having brunch at a quiet restaurant just out of Beverly Hills while Lily's in The States for a while. It's the first time they've seen each other since Rose got engaged a few weeks before.

"Wow," her cousin says as she examines the giant ring on Rose's left hand, "That is some ring."

"Yeah…" Rose offers weakly as way of response. The weather is fine, the food is delicious, and Rose can't seem to find the energy to be happy. Lily redirects her gaze to Rose's face and she makes a valiant attempt at smiling. Lily sees through her.

"You don't seem happy. You got engaged like two weeks ago – newly engaged people are supposed to be happy," Lily says with a slight glare as she analyses every angle of Rose's face, "Why aren't you happy?"

"I am happy," Rose says with an unconvincing laugh. Seriously, how did she ever make it as an actress? "I'm just dreading this upcoming shoot; it's going to be murder."

"That's kind of the point when it's a murder-mystery, isn't it?" Lily attempts a joke, but it falls flat. The whole atmosphere is a bit flat. Lily hasn't been her usual bubbly self since they met outside, and Rose can't shake a constant feeling of general dread. She's not sure where it's come from.

Rose is tempted to respond with a deadpan ' _Ha. Ha.'_ like a friend used to say, but she decides against it for reason she cannot name.

"You've got a point," Rose says with another less-than-convincing smile. Lily clearly doesn't believe her weak excuse, but turns her attention back to examining the ring.

"How many carats in this thing?" she exclaims, twisting Rose's hand to examine it from all angles. It's mildly uncomfortable.

"I don't know. I wanna say, maybe," she thinks back to when Brian was explaining it to her, how he proudly told her how many carats were in the precious jewel on her finger and how rare it was, "Fifteen?"

" _Fifteen?!_ " Lily exclaims, eyes bulging out of her head.

"Is that a lot?" Rose bites her lip

"Look at the damn rock and tell me whether you think 15 is a lot, Rose," Lily's tone is lacking it's typical bubbly edge. Rose tries not to take it to heart, "I bet this thing is worth more than some countries."

The whole conversation was making Rose uncomfortable. If she was being perfectly honest she wasn't a huge fan of the ring. She could recognize that people would kill to have a ring as beautiful as the one on her hand, but it just wasn't her scene. It felt heavy on her hand, she felt awkward walking around town with something this huge on her finger – like she was always at risk of someone diving on her and ripping it off her finger. Also Rose had basically nothing that matched it. The jewelry she wore to most awards shows was leant to her by designers, so while the ring matched when she was dressed to the nines for a premiere, when she was walking down the street wearing no other jewelry, the ring stuck out like a sore thumb.

And the reason she had nothing that matched it was because it just wasn't _her._

Rose thought of her mother's ring; the gold band with a single pearl set in a decorative clasp. It was vintage and small, but it had sentimental meaning having been passed down through her father's family for generations. It meant more than money. Rose loved that – the ring had history.

The only history she was concerned with the rock on her finger having was blood money and unfair trade.

Rose didn't want to seem ungrateful, and she absolutely would not ever tell Brian she didn't like it, but it would definitely take her a while to get used to it. She just needs an adjustment period. That's all.

Rose took back her hand out of Lily's grasp with a smile.

"Probably," she tries to think of ways to change the topic of conversation, but Lily beats her to it.

"So," she says as she looks down at the menu, "Where is my future cousin-in-law anyway? I thought he was going to be joining us?"

"He will be," Rose nods absently and starts scanning through the menu, deliberately not looking at Lily. She knows the conversation that's about to be had and she'd like to avoid it as long as possible.

"Will be?" Lily catches it quickly, abandons her menu and locks on to Rose again, "What's the hold up?"

"He's a senior partner in a multibillion dollar company, Lily – he's busy," Rose hopes her tone is stern enough to bade no argument, not too biting to give away the fact that Rose herself was a bit pissed he wasn't able to be here on time. He had a meeting come up last minute that he had to go to first but he had assured her that he would be here. Rose had smiled, told him it wasn't a big deal, that she would see him when he got here.

It annoyed her but she got it – both of them were ridiculously busy people who were never in the one city for more than three months at a time. She really couldn't hold a grudge with him about being late to brunch with her cousin when she was going to have to miss a Gala in a month because she'd be filming in Florida. It had become obvious even in these early days of their engagement that they were going to have to learn to compromise. And Rose could do that.

Or at least she could try.

Lily nods without saying a word even though Rose knows her well enough to know she wants to make some remark. Lily is making an effort – Rose is thankful for it.

Lily and Brian have met once over Skype (when Brian suggested he should do the obligatory 'Meet the Entire Weasley-Potter Family' catch up after they'd been dating for five months), but they'd never met in person. Rose is testing the waters by introducing him to Lily in person before she unleashes the rest of the family on the poor man. Lily was the most sociable and easy-to-talk-to member of her extended family; she was a good test run for him. Not that she didn't have total faith in Brian being able to get along with her family members. He'd have no trouble wooing her parents she's sure – they'd been quite taken with him when they'd spoken on the phone – but the rest of the gang might be a harder sell. It's not easy to integrate into their brood.

 _(Her thoughts momentarily drift to a terrified, blonde outsider who became part of her family with absolutely no hardship over a period of two weeks. She shakes the image from her head. She doesn't need to think about him right now.)_

Lily draws her back into the present.

"So how did he propose?" she asks with an enthusiasm Rose struggles to find convincing.

"We went out to dinner," Rose recalls the golden lighting through the beautiful restaurant that he'd taken her to out in Napa Valley, "He'd hired the whole place out, there were violins, it was very romantic."

Lily laughs with genuine mirth. "It sounds like something out of a movie! How ironic!"

Rose laughs with her, still smiling at the memory.

"It was beautiful," she sighed, looking down at the ring on her finger and remembered seeing it there for the first time, "We had dinner, watched a fireworks display over the vineyard, and then he proposed. It was…it was pretty perfect."

Textbook, even.

The waiter takes their order and retreats quickly (discretion will get you far in hospitality in Hollywood).

"So there was no one around when he proposed?" Lily takes a sip of water, "Just you two?"

"Yes," Rose isn't sure what she's getting at, but she's sure her cousin has a point to make somewhere.

"Oh that's good," Lily smiles and gives a fluttering wave with her hand, as if dismissing something invisible, "I hate those proposals you hear of when someone proposes to someone in the middle of a busy restaurant or out in the street, or something, and you just think 'what if they had wanted to say no? You've made it impossible for them to say no without horrendously humiliating you'. I can't stand those kind of proposals."

Rose is gripping her wine glass too tightly as she glares at her cousin. Her tone is clipped as she forces her words passed gritted teeth.

"Is that what you assumed?" her words are cold and she watches Lily's face fall into a mask of stoicism, "That I felt pressured to say yes?"

"I never said that Rose," Lily defends, frustrated.

Rose fires back, "But it was heavily implied."

"Can you blame me for thinking that?" Lily looks around, makes sure that no one's obviously listening. She leans across the table and adopts a more gentle tone, "Rose, I've seen you deliberate over what sandwich you want for lunch for longer than you've been seeing this guy. It just seems…quick."

"Sometimes things happen and it's just right," now she sounds like she's quoting dialogue; she wants to kick her own ass, "This is one of those things."

"You've always been a 'yes person', Rose," Lily sounds genuinely concerned and Rose's anger dissipates. She can understand where her cousin is coming from; she'd be asking her the same questions if the situation were reversed, "I just want to make sure you said yes because you wanted to; not because you felt you had to."

Rose shakes her head and takes a breath to steady herself.

"Brian is a good man and I love him," she looks her cousin in the eye to drive her point home; the look she is met with could best be described as serious concern, "I made this decision because it's the right decision. I'm a lucky girl, Lily; I never imagined someone like Brian would want to be with me."

Lily considers her next words for a moment, holding Rose's gaze, "Just as long as you want to be with him."

Rose is about to respond when she's interrupted by a booming, " _There's my fiancée!"_

Brian approaches their table dressed in a suit so perfectly tailored it looks like it's straight from a magazine, his hair is gelled down and swept away from his face as he smiles brightly as always. Rose smiles back, stands from her seat to kiss him hello. Brian turns immediately to Lily and holds out his hand.

"And you must be the wonderful Lily Luna Potter I've heard so much about," Lily pastes on a smile and shakes his hand.

"That I am!" bubbly Lily is back in session. This is why she's the test run – even if she has her concerns, she will only let them show in the right circumstances, unlike Albus who would probably say to both their faces that he thinks they're idiots for getting engaged so soon, "May I say you are even more handsome than you look on screen."

Lily turns her head to looks at Rose, a comical expression on her face, "I didn't think businessmen were allowed to be this pretty!"

Brian laughs openly and takes the seat next to Rose, his arm draping along the back of her chair.

The three of them fall into easy conversation and brunch goes wonderfully. Everyone is on their best behaviour, asking all the right questions and not antagonizing each other. When Lily mentions a clothing line she's trying to develop Brian chimes in with business strategies and numbers of people she should be talking with to get things off the ground. When Brian talks about his upcoming trip to Zurich (in three days; Rose is counting), Lily asks about who he'll be meeting, the sites he'll be seeing, whether he's been there before. That opens conversation about travel and future business developments. Rose has little input, but enjoys watching the two of them share in polite and interested exchanges. Brian compliments Lily without flirting with her – he makes notes of her progress in the fashion industry at such a young age, commends her on her insistence on making it on her own, not riding her parents' coattails. Lily is obviously envious of Brian's knowledge of the business sector, is surprised and impressed by his down-to-earth demeanor when he's such a powerful individual.

Brian has to leave early to go to another meeting, but he does seem authentic when he expresses his wish to stay. Lily and Rose stay on to chat a bit more seeing as neither of them have any other plans for the afternoon.

"He's lovely," Lily tells Rose with an legitimacy that cannot be faked, "He's exactly the kind of man any father would be happy to have marry his daughter."

Rose nods in agreement, "Yeah, he's pretty great."

Now it's Lily's turn to nod. She reaches across and takes Rose's hand.

"As long as you're happy, I'm happy, Rose," she gives her hand a squeeze, "Just promise me that if, for whatever reason, you stop being happy, you do something about it."

The sentiment is touching but Rose would be lying if she said she wasn't a little angry at everyone needing to check in to make sure she's not gone insane because she said yes to a wonderful man when he proposed to her. If she'd said no they all would have told her she was crazy.

Not that that's why she didn't say no. She didn't say no because she loves Brian. She does. Who wouldn't – he's perfect.

"Thanks," Rose smiles at her cousin as she tries to force down the rising bile in her throat, "I will."

* * *

Brian leaves for Zurich a day earlier than planned, so the night-in they had agreed on doesn't happen. Rose tells him she's not upset, that she gets it – he's a busy guy and that means sometimes he's not here. It's that he's present when he is here that matters.

She tries to convince herself of the same thing.

* * *

His phone rings and he seriously considers not answering. When he sees the caller ID he _definitely_ considers not answering. The only thing that provokes him into action is the fact that if he doesn't take this call there will likely be a search party sent for him.

The call is the lesser of two evils (but only just)

" _Where._ _The fuck. Are you?"_

His handler speaks through gritted teeth.

"Hello Maxwell, how are you today?" Scorpius' response is deliberately cheery because he knows it will piss the older man off more than he already is.

" _Don't be cute cocksucker; tell me where the fuck you are_."

"Africa."

A long pause.

" _Africa?"_

"Africa." He nods even though he knows the gesture is lost considering they're having the conversation via phone. He hears Maxwell take a deep breath and suspects that their conversation is about to cross from 'thinly veiled fury' into 'I will murder your first born' territory.

" _Oh, the Africa that's got 54 countries, roughly 30 million square kilometers of land and approximately 8,000 miles from where you should be? THAT AFRICA?"_

Ah, there it is, the explosion he was expecting from the start of the phone call. Maxwell held on for a whole three and a half lines – his temper is getting so much better.

"Yep."

" _CARE TO BE MORE SPECIFIC THAN A WHOLE FUCKING CONTINENT?"_

Scorpius looks around the villa he's staying in, and out onto plains of beautiful desolate landscape.

"I would but I'm not entirely sure where I am," he tried to keep the smile from his voice. He failed.

" _JUST FUCKING BRILLIANT."_

"Don't worry, I haven't been attacked by war lords, you don't have to save me."

" _WHO SAYS I WOULD HAVE SAVED YOU?!"_

He scoffs. "We both know I'm your favourite client."

" _NOT CURRENTLY."_

"You really should calm down, Maxwell, everything's fine."

And the tirade is unleashed. Scorpius feels sorry for anyone in the office next to Maxwell's. He puts him on speaker so he doesn't have to have the phone to his ear for what's about to be said.

" _EVERYTHING IS NOT FINE. ONE OF THE BIGGEST STARS IN HOLLYWOOD – WHO IS MY RESPONSIBILITY – HAS DROPPED OFF THE FUCKING MAP FOR THREE FUCKING WEEKS AND IS APPARENTLY JUST HANGING OUT IN AFRICA. AND, NOW THAT I THINK OF IT, WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU IN FUCKING AFRICA ANYWAY?"_

"I stayed on after filming wrapped. I'm having a holiday."

" _IN FUCKING AFRICA?!"_

"Yes."

" _WHY THE FUCK WOULD YOU WANT TO DO THAT?!"_

"No cell reception."

" _THAT ISN'T A HOLIDAY – THAT'S HELL. AND…wait a minute…WHERE ARE YOU THAT YOU DON'T HAVE CELL RECEPTION?!"_

"I told you – Africa."

" _PLENTY OF PLACES IN AFRICA HAVE FUCKING CELL SERVICE YOU IGNORANT TWAT, SO WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU?!"_

"I wanna say…somewhere..South-ish…"

" _SOUTH?"_

"Ish. There's a beach. And elephants."

" _WELL WHOOP-DEE-FUCKING-DO!_ _GET TO A FUCKING AIRPORT AND GET YOUR ASS BACK HERE SO WE CAN START DOING SOME ACTUAL FUCKING WORK!"_

"No, I'm having a holiday."

" _YOU DON'T GET TO DECIDE WHEN YOU TAKE A HOLIDAY."_

"No? And who does?"

" _THE PEOPLE THAT ARE PAYING YOU. THE PEOPLE THAT ARE PRETTY FUCKING PISSED THAT YOU HAVE GONE AWOL."_

"People like you?"

" _YES, PEOPLE LIKE ME ASSHOLE. NOW GET ON A GODDAM PLANE AND GET YOUR ASS BACK HOME."_

Scorpius has the momentary thought that he's not sure he has a home. He has a lot of houses, very few homes.

When he thinks of home he thinks of red curls, an easy smile, and a laugh so melodious that it lights up a room and fills his heart. He thinks of freckled cheeks, of deep blue eyes, and of smooth skin under his hands.

He doesn't have a home. He lost his home. Someone else has it now.

"I like it here. It's peaceful."

Maxwell's volume lowers and that's more terrifying than the yelling.

" _Well I'll make you a deal – you get back here and I'll give you all the peace you want. I'll give you a big ole jar of peace that you can then take and SHOVE UP YOUR ENTITLED ASS. GET ON A FUCKING PLANE, SCORPIUS."_

Scorpius thinks he may literally be the death of Maxwell. It's not enough for him to want to get on a plane though. He likes it here. He likes that no one knows his face. He likes that he has solitude. He likes that he can almost convince himself there is no world beyond the far-spanning planes of this reserve. And if there is no world beyond these planes, that means there is no Brian Wheeler, which means there is no Rose Weasley being engaged to Brian Wheeler, which means he hasn't lost his home.

He thinks, if he just stayed here a few more days, then he could sell himself the lie. He just needs a few more days.

"I don't want to."

He sounds like a petulant child and when he hears Maxwell's heavy exhale at the other end of the line he knows he's getting on the man's last nerve. Maybe it's possible for him to piss Maxwell off enough that he won't call him again. Then he really could stay here forever.

Maxwell's tone is disarmingly calm when he speaks again.

" _Look Scorpius, I get it – you got your heart broken. But you can't let it crush you, man; you gotta pick yourself up and keep going. There will be other girls. She isn't the end game for you."_

"Says the man that married his high-school sweetheart."

That was a little tidbit that came out during one of their drives through the downtown district in LA when Maxwell had had too much whiskey and felt the need to tell him all the things that Scorpius knew he would regret telling him later. One of them was the fact that he'd married his high school sweetheart – the only woman he'd ever loved ' _both biblically and, you know, emotionally and shit'_ – when he was 21 and only just breaking into the business. They were still going strong 18 years later with three kids. Scorpius found the whole story incredibly endearing because it was proof that Maxwell did, in fact, have a heart.

" _That's different – I hate all humans. Beth is my exception so I had to marry the shit out of her before someone else did. You? You are a likeable guy who has some level of respect for the human race; you'll find someone else, trust me."_

But he didn't want anyone else. He wanted hair that defied the laws of physics and comebacks that were fired at him at a rapid-fire pace. He wanted too-big eyes and too-long limbs; he wanted the family that showed affection by tackling and hanging shit on each other. He wanted the girl who was on his side long before he deserved to have her there.

He wanted Rose.

He did not say this to Maxwell.

"If I don't come back now you're just going to come and get me anyway aren't you?"

" _Are you fucking kidding me? I'm not going to fucking Africa in the fucking summer. I'll send a bounty hunter to bring your ass back. Big guy, Fijian, I might get him to break a couple of ribs too."_

When everything else failed, at least Scorpius could count on Maxwell to stay true to himself. He found it refreshingly comforting, even if Maxwell being true to himself was a dick.

Scorpius took one more look of the dazzling landscape, of the elephants literally twenty feet away from him, and realized that this wasn't life. Well, it wasn't _his_ life. He couldn't stay here forever. Staying in Africa wouldn't stop Rose being engaged; wouldn't create a feasible reality in which she could be his. What was done was done – he couldn't change that now.

So he might as well go back to his only kind-of friend; the man shouting at him at the other end of the phone.

"I can be at Kilimanjaro International Airport tomorrow morning," he concedes and suspects Maxwell might have punched the air in victory, "Have a plane come and get me."

" _You're lucky I'm not sending a hit squad."_

"Looking forward to seeing you too, Maxwell."

* * *

She's taking Brian with her on a visit to the studios while he's in LA for two days, and they stop to grab a coffee on the way. Brian orders for her and confidently says, "Skinny cappuccino, 2 sugars."

Rose doesn't want to embarrass him in front of the register attendant, so she just smiles and accepts the inaccurate drink when it's presented to her. As they're walking towards the studio she mentions it briefly.

"Not that it really matters," she says, shrugging to give off an air of indifference, "My usual order is a latte with almond milk and caramel syrup."

"Rose! You should have said something!" he exclaims, but he's still smiling. Brian is always smiling. Rose likes that about him, it encourages her to do the same.

"It's fine!" she waves it off as she loops her arm through his, "It's just to know for next time."

"I won't forget, I promise," he kisses her knuckles and they continue down the road.

He charms everyone at the studio, many people comment on what a cute couple they make. Brian makes her feel safe and she's relieved by how seamlessly he blends into her world. She only hopes she can do the same in his circles.

..

* * *

Maxwell greets him at the airport and absolutely does _not_ hug him. They just shake hands. By grabbing each other's backs. And pulling each other close. But it's not a hug. It's just this cool new greeting everyone's doing – it's all the rage in Tokyo.

"I'm glad you're back," Maxwell murmurs just loud enough for Scorpius to hear during their very manly non-hug. Scorpius smiles and swallows whatever pesky emotion had been trying to force its way up his oesophagus.

"Good to be back."

The second they break apart Maxwell punches him in the chest. Scorpius stumbles back from the surprise but isn't really hurt. He rubs at his chest to confirm he hasn't actually been harmed.

"Don't you _dare_ do that to me again, motherfucker," Maxwell straightens his suit and adjusts his cufflinks as he tries to act nonchalant, "Had me worried half to death you stupid AWOL asshole…"

Scorpius smiles and claps him on the shoulder, "I missed you too, buddy."

They fall in step beside each other as they walk together towards the awaiting car.

"First and last time you get to call me buddy without me ripping your balls off, ok pal?" Maxwell is all business again and Scorpius is glad. Maybe this is home. Maybe his one friend who is a total asshole, but worries about him and flies him back from Africa when he loses his mind is home.

Or at least it can be for now.

He smiles to himself before replying.

"First and last time you get to call me pal without me cock-punching you."

Maxwell pats him on the shoulder harder than is strictly necessary, but he lets out an authentic laugh, "That's my boy."

* * *

Between Rose's filming schedule and press tour commitments, and Brian's international meetings and development initiatives, they find very few nights to see each other. In fact, Rose can count on one hand the number of times they have physically sat down and eaten dinner together in the same room over the last six months. Skype is an invaluable resource, but it's not the same as having the person you're marrying sitting right next to you as you cuddle up on the couch.

"I miss you," Rose says one night to her iPad which shows his face smiling back at her.

"You see me every day," she can't tell if it's a joke or not, but she doesn't appreciate it.

"It's not the same," she sighs, tapping the place on her screen that displays his dimpled cheek, "I want to be able to actually touch you."

"Soon, darling," he tells her with a grace she will never possess. Rose hears his phone ring off screen, and his attention is immediately captured by it.

"That's probably the Shanghai investors…" he mutters and Rose isn't sure if it's supposed to mean something to her. She thinks he might have mentioned it earlier tonight but she's so tired that she tuned out for a long time.

"Answer it," she says, faking a smile like she's used to on red carpets, "I know it's important."

"I'm so sorry, darling," he implores as he reaches towards his phone, "I'll call you back later."

Rose looks at the clock that proudly boasts that it's currently 12:10am.

"Don't bother – it's already after midnight, I should get some sleep," she says offhandedly, watching as he answers the phone. Brian speaks to whoever is on the other end of the line in a language she doesn't understand before turning back to her/his tablet.

"I love you darling, talk again tomorrow!"

"Ok, good night!"

He blows her a kiss and disconnects their session. Rose finishes her glass of white wine alone, looking out over the cityscape below her hotel room. She doesn't realise until she's brushing her teeth that she didn't say ' _I love you too'_.

The only thing that worries her about that is that it doesn't worry her much at all.

* * *

Rose has a small window of opportunity to have some much-needed downtime and takes the opportunity to go home to spend two weeks with her family. It's what she needs to get herself out of the funk that she's been in the past few months.

She's three days in and sitting out in the frosty Autumn air, listening to the sound of the birds singing and watching the leaves dance on the breeze. There's a peace and solitude out here on the estate, something about knowing the next human being is at least 11 miles away that makes her feel safe. She's different out here; out here she's just Rose in her old faded jeans and wellies to keep her feet dry. She's sitting across from her mother who's discussing the newest board she's sitting on in her capacity as a UN Ambassador. Rose hears the passion in her mother's voice, she has a fire in her eyes and knows that she got out of acting at the right time – this, fighting social injustices, is Hermione Granger's true calling. Rose nods and gives minimal responses as she let's her mother talk. It's a wonderful thing to be the audience to Hermione Granger when she gets this way. It's a spectacle to behold.

Her father joins them, carrying a tray with a pot of tea and three cups on it. He very nearly drops it a few times, but manages to safely land it on the table they're sat around. He takes one of the seats, starts pouring cups of tea, and asks what they were talking about.

"Oh, just the new integrated approach to ending the gender pay-gap we're pitching," Hermione waves a hand at him dismissively, "But I've told you all about it several times already – I promise I won't make you listen to my spiel again."

"Nonsense!" Ron says with a smile, adding a dash of milk to one cup and handing it to his wife, "I can always learn more. Have you figured out how you're going to market it as compulsory yet?"

Hermione lets out a loud sigh, "No, not yet. But I think we're getting closer."

She takes a sip of her tea and lets out a satisfied, happy sigh, "Just what I needed – the perfect cup of tea."

Ron beams at the praise before pouring a cup of tea for Rose.

"How do you take your tea, darling?" he asks her. He didn't have to ask her mother.

"Black, one sugar," she responds with a smile and her father pours her a cup quickly before turning back to Hermione.

"I think if you can work out a way to get Shacklebolt to back you it'll get through," Ron supplies, finally pouring his own cup of tea.

"That's a lot easier said than done," her mother replies before continuing to explain the process and policies to them both. Rose watches as Ron watches Hermione, completely enamoured and focused on every word. She sees where they hold hands beneath the table, how her father rubs patterns in the back of her mother's hand without even thinking.

 _This is what it looks like_ , she thinks, _This is what love looks like. Casual and low key and no grand gestures. Just deciding that there's no place you'd rather be than together._

Rose isn't sure she has that.

* * *

It's her second last day staying with her parents and she is awoken by the sound of screaming and plates shattering. Fearing something awful has happened, she jumps out of bed and runs down stairs to the kitchen. Rose bursts into the room, hair an absolute mess and without bra under her flannel shirt, to find a sight that makes her heart hurt in the best way possible.

Ron has obviously surprised Hermione while she was doing the dishes, and now they're both sitting on the floor giggling hysterically, Ron with a face covered in bubbles, Hermione with dishwashing gloves still on, wet hair, and the plate that was a casualty of the prank shattered across the room. They haven't noticed her come in, still wrapped up in the laughter as they are, and Rose realises, perhaps for the first time consciously, that her parents' marriage has lasted so long because they are best friends.

 _That's what I want_ , she thinks, _I want to be married to my best friend. I want to spend the rest of my life laughing._

She can't remember a time when Brian's made her smile like her mother and father are smiling now. That said, they've been together since they were twenty, and have known each other since they were eight – what she's witnessing it 40 years of friendship and love. She's going to have to work hard to make it happen, and she's willing to do it to get something that's anything like what her parents have.

But she can't work at it while she is actually working because she simply won't have the time. So the solution is simple –

She'll take a year off.

A year away from cameras and lights; a year away from parties and premieres; a year spent in sweat pants, reading the paper with her fiancée over the morning paper. That's what she's going to have. That's what it's going to take. And she's going to do it. She'll do anything to make sure she's marrying her best friend.

* * *

She tells Brian as soon as they're both in the same room together, which happens to be three days after she gets back from her parents' place.

"I'm taking a year off," she announces. He looks at her like she's just told him she thinks she's the second coming of Christ.

"What did you say?" he asks, hesitant and unsure. Rose smiles, her confidence growing as she realises this is the right decision to make.

"I'm taking a year off acting. No press tours, no photo shoots, no interviews, no after parties. Nothing," she beams at him, a weight lifting from her shoulders, "I'm taking a year off just to be with you."

His eyes light up and she feels like the most important person in the universe.

"We can travel together!" he says as he rushes towards her to embrace her, "This will be wonderful!"

He sweeps her off her feet and swings her round in circles. She laughs loudly and throws her head back, ecstatic for the first time in a long time. He stops spinning to hold her close to him and kiss her passionately. It's perfect. This is what she wants; this is what she imagined being married to be.

The only problem is it only lasts an afternoon before he goes back to work. But it doesn't matter because they have a year. One afternoon for a whole year isn't too much to ask.

* * *

Since getting back from Africa, Scorpius throws himself into his work more than he ever has before. He drops weight to play a prisoner of war, gains muscle to play an ex-marine, learns a new language to play a Russian-defector during the cold war, isolates himself in a shack in the mountains for months to play a sole survivor of a nuclear disaster. It probably isn't healthy. And he's astounded by how much he doesn't care.

It reaches a point that Maxwell intervenes by not sending him scripts he knows he'll put himself through hell to prepare for.

"It's called method-acting, Maxwell," Scorpius tells him over lunch one day, "It's the most effective way to get an authentic performance."

"You're a fucking _actor_ , Malfoy," Maxwell is tearing into a steak with absolutely no finesse or mercy. The man's a carnivore in every sense of the word, "Be a fucking actor and fucking pretend."

"If I want to be taken seriously…"

"If you want to stay alive then you'll stop being a goddam moron and take a break," Maxwell interrupts before fishing a script out of his briefcase. He throws it at Scorpius and it almost lands in his meal. Scorpius opens it and sees 'STAGE DIRECTION' written across the pages.

"Stage?" he asks incredulously, "You want me to go into theatre."

"Not theatre," Maxwell corrects, " _Broadway_. Read it – it's actually pretty good. And this way I can keep you in one city for an extended period of time so I don't have to hike a fucking mountain to make sure you haven't died ' _getting into character'_."

"You're still mad about Africa aren't you?"

"I'll _always_ be mad about Africa, motherfucker," he adopts a softer tone, one that is only seen very rarely, "But seriously – it's a good script. I think you should give it a shot."

Maxwell knows him too well – the script is great and Scorpius is hungry to star in it.

 _Broadway, here comes Scorpius Malfoy_

* * *

Rose soon discovers that even though she's not attending wrap parties and premieres, she's spending her time at galas and functions. She attends with Brian, but they don't actually spend the evening together. By the end of the night she's so exhausted from spending the night making awkward small talk with important people and their partners, that she doesn't really talk to Brian much at all.

Not to mention Rose doesn't fit as seamlessly with his life as he does with hers. The people around her talk about stock prices and globalisation, and all Rose can think is that she has attended acting school since she was 12 – she has basically no idea what anyone is talking about. She's not stupid – she's half Hermione Granger so that's basically impossible – but she's so far out of her depth that she often feels like an idiot child.

Rose would be lying if she said the way the women critically assess her dress sense and seemingly attempt to bait her into conversations she doesn't understand doesn't get to her. She hates feeling so inferior.

Not even Brian's smiling face and comforting arm around her waist can change her mind.

At the conclusion of the latest drawn out display in how inept Rose Weasley is at making conversation of international trade agreements, she basically falls into the back of the limo, too exhausted to stand another minute.

"Well thank goodness that's over a done with," Brian says although she doesn't believe him – that crowd is hiw world and he dominates it. That's where he's at home. He retrieves his phone from his jacket pocket and starts replying to emails and scheduling appointments for the both of them over the next few days. Rose isn't sure whom he's receiving emails from – surely anyone worth talking to was at the function they just walked out of. He taps at his phone and talks about who they met and how things went well. He taps her on the knee, tells her she did well just as he knew she would (she's not brave enough to call him a liar). Rose stares out the window and watches as rain starts to fall. She falls asleep not hearing what he's saying, listening to the rain, and imagining she was back home.

* * *

Opening night is only days away and Scorpius is tempted to contact her for the first time in almost 18 months. He wants to send her a message, ask her to come and see him perform. He's proud of the production and he wants to share it with her.

He never sends the message though. He sees a picture of her on the news with Brian at a charity event in Paris. She's smiling as she holds his hand and waves to the crowd. That's her world now – _his_ world. He imagines she has no time for him and his silly little play.

Scorpius puts away his phone and continues reciting lines as he tries once more to forget how her lips felt pressed against his.

He doesn't imagine he will though. Surely if he hasn't forgotten by now, he never will.

* * *

They've been in the US for a quick stop over – only 2 weeks, Brian tells her fleetingly as they enter the apartment she used to call home. It's now just a stopover all the hotels she stays in for a few nights here and there. This place isn't lived in. It's not home anymore.

The day they're supposed to fly out she tells him she's not going. It makes him pause, he looks at her with worry in his eyes.

"I think I should take some time to plan the wedding," she lies with a practiced smile, "It'll be easier if I have one base of operations to work from."

"That sounds wonderful!" Brian kisses her on the cheek, "Be sure to let me know if you need my help with anything."

 _I don't need your help; I just need you to stay._

Rose bids him farewell and stands alone in the hallway for several moments after he's left. She's not sure she misses _him_ , but she's missing something.

She doesn't look up wedding dresses, and she makes no attempt to book venues. Instead Rose climbs into bed and sleeps the day away, dreaming of a time when her laughter wasn't empty and her smile wasn't forced.

* * *

" _I'm a toaster. You'll probably be something bland. A knife block, perhaps."_

" _I hold the power to end the lives of my enemies – I can agree with that."_

" _It also means that the two of us together equals sparks."_

" _And death."_

She wakes up smiling.

Right before she starts to cry.

* * *

Albus Potter is on his doorstep and that is concerning for the following reasons:

He hasn't spoken to Albus since he'd last spoken to Rose, and that was a lot longer ago than he cares to think about.

He's not sure he's allowed to talk to Albus anymore because he's not sure if he and Rose are friends anymore, and he's fairly sure you're not supposed to stay friends with the family of someone you're no longer friends with (Scorpius doesn't know for sure – he's knew to this whole 'friends' thing)

He never gave Albus his address, so how the hell does he know where he lives

 _AND HOW THE FUCK DID HE GET PAST SECURITY_

None of this is apparently concerning to Albus Potter, because he welcomes himself inside before Scorpius can do so, and wanders towards the large windows that overlook Central Park.

He lets out a low whistle, "That is some view!"

"Um…" Scorpius is at a loss for words, "Don't take this the wrong way, but _what the fuck are you doing here?"_

Albus turns and pulls a half-eaten hotdog out of the pocket of his oversized jacket. The jacket is probably some fashion statement he's making, but it honestly just looks like he's a four year old wearing his father's clothes. With his spiky hair, round glasses, and fingerless gloves, Albus looks equal parts runway model and hobo. Scorpius honestly can't be sure which look he was aiming for – with Albus it could literally be anything.

The dark-haired boy takes a large mouthful of hotdog and speaks ( _Scorpius' mother would have a fit if he ever spoke with his mouth full_ ), "Ahm in tha shitty fo a foo dayths."

Albus swallows and Scorpius can actually understand him again. He's blissful he no longer has to witness the horrific display of foodstuffs being pulverized in Potter's mouth as he speaks.

"I need a tour guide and I thought, who better than my old pal Scorpius Malfoy!"

Anyone.

Literally anyone would be better than Scorpius.

And he can't remember when they became old pals. Maybe Albus has had some kind of episode. Maybe Scorpius has had some episode and is actually in the Twilight Zone. Albus continues to look at him expectantly.

"So, you gunna grab a coat? It's freezing out there." He says gesturing to the grey cityscape over his shoulder. Scorpius is still standing somewhat stupidly in his doorway.

"Wh-" he doesn't even know where to start, "Why did you come here?"

"I told you," he takes another mouthful and practically inhales it without chewing – a skill developed sitting at the Weasley-Potter Christmas table he believes, "I'm in the city for a few days. Wanted to see some sites, eat some good food, and I need an insider's look at it. I know you live here so I thought I'd drop by and get you to give me a tour!'

Scorpius finds it hard to believe that Albus is here to eat good food and he's somehow decided the first place to seek out to fulfill that dream is a hotdog vendor.

"How do you even know where I live?"

Albus brushes his very serious question aside with a wave of his hand, "Don't worry about that! Grab your coat! I want to make the Staten Island ferry."

"But-"

"Come on, Scorpius! What else have you got to do this afternoon?"

He had scripts to read. And workouts to do. And…

Nothing. Scorpius didn't actually have anything scheduled for today. He finds that quite fortuitous as well. He surveys the man in front of him as he eats the last of his hotdog in one almighty gulp, and concedes that there are worse people to spend an afternoon with. He owed Albus for the Golden Globes, and they did get along well at that Christmas he attended years ago that he tries very hard not to think about.

(That's a new tactic of his – try not to think about all the things you've lost. Maybe then he'll make it out alive)

"I guess I have some time…"

"Great!" Albus is walking towards the door with a wide-eyed smile, "Grab your coat and let's get going!"

And that is how Scorpius spent one miserably rainy Thursday afternoon wandering around New York City with Albus Potter. He got recognized a few times, took photos with fans, signed some autographs, but they largely went unnoticed thanks to the coats and beanies. Albus is a perpetually happy guy and was more than happy to babble on about nothing for hours on end. Scorpius didn't notice until too late that he'd told Albus a lot about himself and his life. He spoke about his father's illness, about his mother's unwavering dedication to seeing them both happy. He talks about his little trip to Africa (although pointedly leaves out why he decided to stay), and explains what he's up to now, how he's hoping this Broadway play is going to bring some exciting new challenges.

All in all, Scorpius doesn't have a horrible day. In fact it's been quite lovely. It's lovely enough, in fact, that when Albus says he'll be back tomorrow, Scorpius doesn't tell him not to come over. Instead he just gives him a time and agrees to be ready when he arrives this time.

Scorpius doesn't understand how or why it happened, but he's happy it did. Albus Potter is an enigma, but he's an enjoyable one. Scorpius is glad he reached out – he likes that he has someone like Albus in his life, even if it is only fleeting.

* * *

Albus calls her in late November, eager to talk about absolutely nothing as he always is. Rose is thankful for the distraction; she doesn't like being left alone with her thoughts these days.

Albus talks about the 1800s period piece he's doing the costuming for, explains how he's excited but also incredibly frustrated at trying to track down the appropriate materials for the gowns to look authentic. He talks about a recent trip to Greece and how he spent sunny days travelling between islands on a private yacht. Rose enjoys getting lost in his adventures, the tales of picturesque imagery and shenanigans an enjoyable escape.

And then everything does a complete 180 when he brings up the last person she expects him to.

"So I ran into Scorpius the other day," he says casually and completely without preamble.

Rose chokes on her own spit. Albus continues to say nothing.

"Wh-" she honestly doesn't know what she's supposed to say, or why Albus brought it up, so she somewhat weakly responds with, "Where did you run into him?"

"At his apartment," comes Albus' cheery reply.

"Why were you at his apartment?" this whole conversation just got incredibly weird.

"So I could bump into him," Albus takes a bite of something on the other end and his words come out muffled and but still coherent, "He's playing Salazar Slytherin on Broadway. He's pretty brilliant. He said you two don't really speak anymore?"

Rose wants to know what else he said about her, but doesn't want to sound desperate, "No, not really."

"Why?"

Albus asks it as if it's a simple question with a simple response. As if it's not a completely loaded question with a thousand different aspects. She could say it's because she's marrying a man that isn't Scorpius and that makes things complicated. She could say it's because they made out naked and he hasn't been able to properly look at her since. She could say it's because they got really close to being something for a while there, and now they're basically nothing and it hurts too much to deal with so she just pretends he doesn't exist. She could say a thousand and one things, but none of them seem to actually make sense as to why she stopped talking to him.

"We just…well you know…" she plays with a loose thread on her favourite blanket that's wrapped around her knees, "We only really used to talk because we were filming."

"Just because you're not filming together doesn't mean you stop being friends, Rose," Albus chastises her, being incredibly serious for one of the very few times in his life.

"I don't know if he'd want to see me, Albus" she whispers which she realises too late is ridiculous – there's no one in the apartment, that's why she's so happy Albus called in the first place – he fills the silence. Her cousin lets out a heavy, frustrated sigh on the other end of the phone.

"Are you serious?" he continues before she responds, "What makes you think that?"

 _Because I think I might have broken him. I think I broke the infallible Scorpius Malfoy. And I think he broke me too._

"I don't know," she continues picking at the loose thread, worrying it between her fingers, "We just don't talk like we used to."

"Well maybe this is how you start being like you used to," Rose wonders when her cousin became so wise. She's kind of terrified that she'll turn up to say hello to Scorpius and he'll look at her with the closed-off look in his eyes and will give her a polite ' _thank you for coming'_ and send her on her way. She doesn't want that – she doesn't want to be nothing to him. Rose bites her bottom lip and remains silent, imaging all the ways he could reject her attempts to mend their friendship if she approached him.

"Do you want to see him, Rose?" Albus' voice is free from judgment but very much implies he knows her answer.

Probably because she's ridiculously transparent.

"Yes," her voice is tiny in the huge, empty apartment. Albus' response is reassuring and filled with warmth, "But things are different from what they used to be."

"He's a friend; he was your best friend once. You don't have to feel guilty about enjoying spending time with him," Rose wonders, once more, when Albus got so wise, "Go to his show, Rose, I know he'll appreciate it."

Rose looks around at the vacant apartment, sees a reflection of herself in the windows, sitting by herself in the dark. She's allowed to do things on her own; she's allowed to go out just because she wants to. It doesn't have to be part of a press-tour, or for publicity. And it's not as if she has to wait around for Brian to call – they haven't spoken in two weeks anyway. And the only reason that worries her is because it doesn't worry her at all. She hasn't anything to say to him – speaking to Brian will only make her feel guilty for not doing anything.

(Then again, the reason she's not doing anything is because she put her life on hold for a year so they could be together. Look at how that turned out)

Rose makes the decision right there on the spot - tonight she is going to put on a nice dress, shake off her blues, and go and see her friend at the theatre.

"I'm going to go," she can feel herself smiling, "I'm going to go and see his show tonight."

"That's more like it."

* * *

Rose only has to make a phone call to her manager and tickets are magically organised. She hates playing the ' _I'm kind of a big deal'_ card, but tonight is one of the few times she'll make an exception to that rule. She also arranges for a bouquet of yellow flowers to be waiting in the car – she remembers that they're his favourite and she's pretty sure you do things like that for people who star on Broadway. Her car arrives and takes her downtown. The theatre's very accommodating; she gets let in through a back staff entrance so as not to make a scene. Her seat is in a private box especially reserved for friends and family of the actors. She feels a little bit of a fraud using them, unsure if she really has the right to call Scorpius a friend after not speaking to him in so long. But his people have obviously allowed her to use them, so she lets it slide and takes her seat once all the lights have gone down and no one can see her slip in.

The stage lights up, the set minimal and desolate. Which is perfect for Scorpius. He always did his best work when he was left to his own devices.

There's a crash off-stage that echoes through the theatre and Scorpius stumbles on stage in character. He's wearing a jet-black wig that falls past his shoulders, and a long black cloak that almost resembles a cape. Rose immediately notes that he's lost weight for the role ( _again. It's not healthy_ ), and when he turns to the audience she can feel that everyone in the room is already transfixed. He just has that ability, that otherworldly quality that pulls everyone in.

Rose's heart rate picks up and something in her chest dances at the sight of him. Even though he looks very _un-Scorpius-like,_ she knows it's him and being in the same room is enough to make her hear sing. She's missed him.

* * *

Rose is escorted backstage by staff and her personal security. They come up to Dusty, Scorpius' ex-Marine personal bodyguard whose standing outside his dressing room. Rose almost thinks he's not going to let her in, panics that maybe Scorpius has given him strict instructions not to let her through. Maybe she'll walk up to him, with the bouquet of flowers that now feels rather silly in her hands, and he'll just wave her along, tell her he's too busy for her now. Tell her he's outgrown her.

 _Tell her she's marrying someone else so she's no longer useful._

Dusty greets her own bodyguard, Lincoln, like they're brothers with a handshake that turns into a hug. Dusty spots Rose behind her own personal giant and smiles.

"Miss Weasley!" Dusty says with bright eyes and a genuine smile – maybe she isn't quite a pariah just yet, "I haven't seen you in so long!"

It stings a bit and she fights her urge to cringe.

"Yeah…" she says awkwardly, at a loss for what to say, "Sorry?"

"No need to be sorry!" he says with a smile, pulls her in for a hug, "I just wish you and Mr. Malfoy did movies together still – I'd get to see you more!"

 _Me too_.

Rose smiles weakly and gestures to the door Dusty is guarding.

"Speaking of Scorpius, do you mind if I…" she's not sure what she's actually here for so she stumbles over her words some more, "You know…Is he…I'd like to congratulate him, is all."

"Of course!" Dusty exclaims with a smile as if she's just asked the most obvious question in the world. At least Scorpius hasn't complained about her to Dusty. That's something. Dusty knocks on the door and calls through, " _Mr. Malfoy, there's someone here to see you."_

Rose holds her breath and hopes she hasn't made a horrible mistake.

* * *

Scorpius doesn't particularly feel like seeing anyone. It was the last show of the week tonight and he's bloody exhausted. Stage work is demanding and challenging, and even though it has absolutely been giving him life recently, he's ready for a break. He feels like he could sleep for a thousand years and he'd like that to start as soon as possible.

He's not confident in his ability to be charming right now. He hasn't even taken off his wig yet. But he made himself a deal to be more charming to fans and producers. And who knows, it could actually be someone important (but he highly doubts it – not many important people drop by for the Sunday night performance).

He drags his feet to the door, wrapped tightly in his dressing gown having discarded his sweaty costume minutes beforehand, and swings open the door, doing his best not to look too pissed.

There, in the doorway holding a bouquet of yellow roses, is Rose.

 _His Rose._

 _No, not-his Rose. Brian's Rose._

But Rose all the same. And she's standing three feet away from him and looks as nervous as he feels.

"Hi," she squeaks, gesturing weakly to the bouquet, "I wanted to bring you these myself. And to say well-done, the play was brilliant."

He just continues to stare at her stupidly. He's seen her so often in his dreams that he worries he might be asleep and this could just be another dream. She might not actually be here.

"You did amazing, as always. And yeah, I'm sorry it took me so long to come and see it…"

She's not disappearing. Lincoln is here with her. He never dreams of Lincoln.

"I didn't know if you really wanted to see me, but I wanted to just, you know, say congrats. And I remembered you saying that your mum grew yellow roses, so I thought you might like some yellow roses…I don't like roses myself, even though it is my name, I much prefer orchids…"

* * *

She's prattling wildly to prevent the silence, and she really should just leave because it's quite clear that he doesn't want her here. He hasn't said a damn thing, has just continued to stare at her in the doorway, and she really should just run away before she starts crying.

* * *

She isn't an illusion, he's sure of it. She's talking nonsense and biting her lip and just standing there being all _Rose-like_. He can smell the roses and her perfume. He can hear people calling orders at the other end of the corridor. He can see the lipstick smudge from where she keeps biting her lip.

His dreams are never this lucid which means one thing – she's real. Which means that Rose Weasley is standing 3 feet away from him holding a bouquet of his favourite flowers. And she's not going anywhere.

Scorpius does the one thing that seems suitable for the occasion – he wraps her in his arms and holds her as close as he can without hurting her.

Rose Weasley is in his arms, and the world has order once more.

* * *

Rose releases a puff of air, the force of his hug is so strong. She wriggles her arms out from where they've been crushed against his chest, wraps them tightly around him and snuggles into his chest. His head rests atop her own, and she can feel the ends of his wig hanging down his back, and he smells sweaty, and he's too bony right now, but this is perfect. She has received very few hugs from Scorpius Malfoy before in her life and they were just as perfect as this one.

She absently thinks that he should put that on his Twitter bio – _actor, philanthropist, businessman, perfect hugger._

"It's so good to see you," he breathes into her hair, his hands rubbing along her back, just like they did at Christmas years ago. Rose still remembers the moment clearly. Before she can stop herself, she says the one thing she's been thinking since she saw him walk on stage.

"I've missed you," she whispers into his dressing gown and can feel her eyes starting to get hot.

"I've missed you too, Rosie."

 _She won't cry, she won't cry, she won't cry, she won't…_

Shit she's crying.

He pulls back and her immediate instinct it to pull him in close again – she wasn't done being enveloped by him yet. She's focused on the floor, very determinedly _not_ looking at him, and he goes and blows all of it to hell by tilting her head up to face him. He's wearing a soft smile and she just wants to hug him again.

"What's wrong?" Scorpius asks, his voice low, one hand cupping her face while the other rests on her hip. She feels her fingers aching and only then realizes that she clutching his dressing gown tightly. She doesn't want to let him go; too afraid it will result in them not speaking again for over a year. She doesn't want to be without him for that long. She doesn't want to be without him at all.

"Nothing," she smiles and sniffles, "I'm just really happy."

"You don't look very happy," he raises an eyebrow and she wants to cry and laugh because she hasn't seen him do that in so long. Scorpius removes his hand from her cheek to put a stray curl behind her ear. And that's just perfect isn't it, because it's such a tiny movement that speaks volumes about how much he cares that it makes her heart hurt.

"I am, I promise," she lets out a breath that almost sounds like a laugh and she can't stop staring in his eyes, "In fact, it's the happiest I've been in a really long time."

* * *

Scorpius beams. She's happy. She's happy to be here with him.

It makes his heart bloom.

He doesn't want to let her go but he's still wearing this bloody ridiculous wig and he smells terrible and he really needs to go home.

Maybe she can come home with him?

Just as soon as he figures out a better way to phrase that so he doesn't sound like he's coming on to her. Because he can't do that. Because she's getting married. To someone who isn't him.

He honestly doesn't care. He just wants to sit and be with Rose Weasley for as long as she'll allow him.

* * *

"What are your plans later tonight?" he asks her and she notices he can't stop smiling. She can't stop smiling either. Maybe it's contagious.

"Later tonight?" she lets out a proper laugh now, "Scorpius, it's 12:15 in the morning – there is not later tonight."

"Right," he blushes and she has to restrain herself from pinching his cheek, "Well, what are you doing early this morning?"

"I haven't got any plans," she shrugs. She's still holding his dressing gown. She should probably stop doing that. But he's got his arms wrapped around her still too, so maybe if neither of them mention it they'll both get away with it.

"Did you maybe, wanna…" he pauses, stutters and fumbles over his words, "That is to say, you know seeing as you don't have plans and all…"

She puts him out of his misery because she can't grow old waiting for him to ask her back to his place.

"Did you wanna hang out?" she blurts out over his stuttering.

"Yes," his response is immediate, his relief at her asking the question obvious, "I've got an apartment a few blocks from here that I've been staying in temporarily. We can be there in 10 minutes."

Rose beams, "That sounds perfect."

"Excellent!" Scorpius looks up in the direction of his hair line, "Just let me get changed and we can head off."

"I'll wait out here."

He pulls her in for one last squeeze before letting her go and retreating into his dressing room with the flowers she basically forgot she'd brought with her. Rose turns around to see Lincoln and Dusty smiling knowingly at her. Dusty speaks first.

"Good to have you back, Miss. Weasley," he says with sincerity. Rose almost starts crying again. She feels more at home in a dank corridor surrounded by bodyguards and actors than she does in her own home.

* * *

He'd lost his best friend because he wanted her to be more than she was willing to give him. It was unfair of him to demand she love him without ever telling her how he felt.

It was unfair of him regardless of whether she knew how he felt or not.

Scorpius Malfoy decides that this can be enough. That if the only way to have Rose Weasley in his life is to have her as his friend – and his best friend at that – then that's what he'll take.

He just doesn't want to lose her again.

* * *

Rose goes on ahead of Scorpius after Lincoln is given the address (because Rose doesn't even know where he lives right now), and she finds herself at a stunning apartment overlooking Central Park. She is ashamed to notice how close they live. They're not exactly neighbours, but it's not as if she has to take a transatlantic flight to visit him.

In fact she could visit him very easily. Extremely easily. She wonders how long he's going to be staying in town for; maybe she could drop by while she's having her year off. Maybe they could become breakfast buddies or lunch lads/ladies. Maybe that could happen. She'd like that to happen.

Rose took a year off to work on her marriage and wellbeing. She's happy with Scorpius; she'd be improving her wellbeing by spending time with him. And if she feels better within herself and becomes a happier person then she'll be a better wife.

Yeah. That totally justifies her spending time with a man that's not her fiancee. She's doing this to improve her marriage. That makes sense.

Albus' words ring through her mind:

 _He's a friend; he was your best friend once. You don't have to feel guilty about enjoying spending time with him._

She can repeat the words all she likes; it doesn't mean she can crush the overwhelming anxiety and guilt filling every pore in her body the longer she stands in his apartment for.

Nothing is going to happen, this she knows, but she also tries to think about how she would feel if she was in Brian's shoes. How would she feel knowing her fiancee had gone to the apartment of a woman he used to be really close with – _really, dangerously close with –_ to sit and chat at 12:30am? How would she feel if she knew they'd made out naked once?

Easy – she'd feel pretty damn shit.

Rose tries to distract herself from her tormenting thoughts by walking around the foyer area to bask in the beauty of Scorpius' temporary home. Hardwood floors and wide-open spaces are lit up with the lights of the city outside coming through the floor-to-ceiling windows. There's little colour; everything's sleek in white and greys and slightly lighter shades of grey. Black and white photographs line the walls – they're all landscapes of exotic places, not another human face to be seen. An ultra-modern floating spiral staircase leads up to the second floor and all Rose can think is that you wouldn't be able to slide down the bannisters like her and her cousins did when they were children. The whole place looks like it should be featured in a catalogue (which it probably has been, now she thinks about it). It feels constructed but not lived in.

The space is cold and lifeless. It doesn't feel like Scorpius at all. Not the Scorpius she knows.

Maybe he's different now? After all, they haven't properly spoken to each other in almost two years. People are wont to change. She's fairly sure she has.

Rose starts to think that maybe she made a bad decision coming here after all – she feels very much like an intruder standing in his space without him here. Even though she was invited, she still feels like she's peaking through his drawers without his permission. She's tempted to call Lincoln, ask him to come and get her because her heart rate is rising and she thinks she might be about to have a panic attack if she doesn't get out of this place very soon.

And then Scorpius walks in and everything is fine again.

"Ah good! Not a stalker!" he says happily as he walks through the door, obviously exhausted as he carries a small bag and flicks on the lights. The space looks better when it's lit – homier. But then again, that could also just be because Scorpius is here, and when he dumps his bag on the floor next to the door he inadvertently leaves the only sign of life throughout the apartment. He feels larger than life, like he occupies this whole space. It's suddenly a home when he's here.

(She tries not to think about the implications of that)

"Can I get you something? Coffee? Tea? Sparkling water?" he asks as he walks into the large, open kitchen that looks like it's hardly ever been used. Rose knows him well enough to know he's never cooked a day in his life and that his giant fridge will be packed to the brim of nutritionist-approved meals.

"Coffee would be great," she replies because she's craving a caffeine hit, but she honestly doesn't feel like she needs it to stay awake. There's something about being in the same room as Scorpius for the first time in over a year that is keeping her very alert even at the late hour.

"Coffee, coffee, coffee," he says to himself as he busies himself in the kitchen, moving around and turning on a frankly intimidating-looking coffee machine. It's brass and gold, shaped like a cylinder, and looks more like it belongs in an alternative Steam Punk universe. It looks like you need a degree in ye olde engineering to operate it. It springs into life and lets out a low whistle. Rose is a bit concerned it may take flight or explode.

"You're lucky," he moves towards his fridge and shoots a signature smile over his shoulder, "I have almond milk, and I _think_ I've still got some caramel syrup in date somewhere."

He remembers how she takes her coffee. It wasn't in the friendship quiz and he still remembers. She's not sure why that matters so much, but it's endearing enough to almost make her cry. Again.

Scorpius looks comfortable as he moves around the machine and manages to whip up two cups of simply delectable coffee – an almond milk caramel latte for her, and a long black with the tiniest dash of milk for him.

They sit down on his couch with their cups of delicious coffee and Rose prepares herself to stutter and make awkward small talk like she's been doing at galas for months. They haven't seen each other in so long, and she's struggling to think of things she can talk about considering she's half way through her year off from work, and she doesn't have too much to talk about outside of work, so she's leading quite a boring life right now. She prepares herself to adapt a role she hates and enter ' _Wife of Wealthy Businessman Mode'_ wherein she makes polite conversation and barely displays any emotion. It's the only role she's been playing this year, and she can't stand it. She's almost afraid to have to do it again, worried she won't be convincing in the slightest.

Her fears are completely unfounded.

"So I call bullshit on you actually watching the show," he says as he sits opposite her on a separate couch and hands her a coffee.

"What?" she's confused, "Of course I watched your show! Why would you think I didn't?"

"Because I can spot your hair twenty miles away," he gestures to her hair with a cheeky smile, "No way you sat in the audience and I missed that mop."

"Mop?" she's smiling, "You used to be charming."

"That was before I got grey and old," he sighs dramatically.

"You're not old."

"I found my first grey hair yesterday, Rosie! I'm practically a geriatric!"

She leans forward and squints at his hair in the low light, "Oh yeah, now that you mention it you look really salt and pepper-y."

"DON'T EVEN JOKE, ROSE!"

They fall into an easy rhythm, like they were never apart. He finishes her sentences, laughs at her jokes. She insults him and he critiques her. She picks on his perfect hair and he flutters his eyelashes at her.

She's smiling so much her cheeks hurt.

(Her cheeks have never hurt with Brian.)

They eventually stop talking when Scorpius catches sight of something out his giant windows.

"Is that _the sun?!"_ he exclaims as he spies the first tendrils of gold peeking through the city skyline.

Rose yawns and looks out the window.

"So it is," she sighs as she shifts to face the windows, "My god the sunset over the city is beautiful."

They fall asleep on the couch after watching the sunrise. And despite the fact she's wrapped up in a blanket and curled in an entirely uncomfortable position on his couch, it's the best sleep she's had in months.

* * *

He looks over to see Rose Weasley's face painted in the colours of the sunrise. _This,_ he thinks, _is why warriors fought to the death; to win the hearts of women like Rose Weasley_.

He should probably stop having those thoughts about his best friend. And he will.

Just as soon as she stops being so beautiful.

* * *

Brian is in Tokyo for her birthday. He sends her 30 bouquets of a dozen red roses ' _for his red Rose'._ Everyone who sees it mentions how it's so romantic and thoughtful. Rose hasn't the heart to tell them, or him, that she doesn't like roses.

Scorpius sends her one bouquet of purple orchids, her favourite.

* * *

She really needs to stop comparing her best friend to her fiancee. They're nothing alike; it's why she started seeing Brian in the first place.

* * *

She just always imagined she'd marry her best friend. She realises that her plan only changed when her best friend turned out to be Scorpius Malfoy.

She's no longer sure that's a good enough reason to throw away her plans.

* * *

A movie Scorpius shot last year is having its premiere and Rose receives an official invite. She wasn't going to go, at least not before she called Brian to let him know, but then she remembers she doesn't need his permission.

(Besides, they spoke a few days ago, and her and Brian don't seem to speak more frequently than once a week these days)

Rose walks the red carpet and even though this was what she wanted to step away from, she can't deny she's comfortable here. On a red carpet to a movie premiere in a dress that makes her feel like a princess – this is where she finds her stride. She knows when and where to smile, she waves to the fans, she poses for the cameras. Rose is a seasoned pro at this and even if it's not her favourite place in the world to be, she'd rather be here than at a 'retreat' for her fiancee's business associates.

Rose can't help but feel a little guilty – like this was breaking her 'one year off' rule she'd set for herself. But she reminds herself that this isn't acting and therefore it still counts as a break. She's gone a good 9 months without 'working' on anything film related. One measly night out to support her friend's new film is hardly working. She's allowed to be here.

Besides, it's not like there's someone waiting for her at home.

Rose is pulled aside by a reporter who she recognizes. She's so swept up in the moment that she responds almost too honestly to a few questions.

They ask about Scorpius. Which makes sense – after all, he's a star of the film. One would think Rose would be practiced and poised enough to know exactly what to say in this situation.

One might think that, but they'd be wrong.

She says exactly the wrong thing, and as soon as it's out of her mouth she just knows – _several unpleasant conversation are going to come out of this._

* * *

She comes to the premiere. He sees her in the foyer, dressed in a baby pink ball gown that stands out in the crowd and he's stuck again by just how beautiful she is.

She turns to see him, smiles at him with genuine happiness in her eyes. He tells himself to smile back, but realises he already is. He seems to just do that when he's around her – smiles before he can stop himself. It doesn't annoy him like it probably should.

He spends most of his time with her throughout the night. It's the most he's enjoyed one of these insipid affairs in a long time. In fact he finds himself wishing the night wouldn't end.

But it does. And she goes back to her soon-to-be-husband. And Scorpius finds himself miserable once more.

* * *

Dr. Minerva McGonagall has been a well-respected therapist used throughout Hollywood since Rose's parents were working. She got the woman's phone number from her mother. Rose meets with Dr. McGonagall once every fortnight, and her next meeting coincidently happens the day after the interview airs.

She's not surprised, and knows the exact conversation they're going to have (unpleasant conversation number one). Rose isn't looking forward to it. It was an off-handed comment; it was not supposed to be taken as a confession. But she knew too well, that is exactly how her therapist would take it.

McGonagall has a weird obsession with asking her about Scorpius. It's been a recurring theme that she doesn't like to continue to unpack. McGonagall explained that Rose seemed to talk about him a lot, to which Rose responded _of course I do, I've done four movies with the guy, he's been a big part of my life_. That remark had results in several lines of notes, Rose was sure; she absolutely wasn't surprised when McGonagall brings up the newest interview.

"I saw that interview last night," she drops in with all the subtlety of a sledgehammer, "The one where they asked you about Scorpius."

Rose bites down her snarky remark and replies with more calm than she has, "They all ask about Scorpius"

McGonagall sees through the obvious attempt at diversion.

"It was an interesting comment you made," the older woman is all dulcet tones and perfect enunciation. Rose will never achieve that level of perfection, "About how he was someone anyone could fall in love with."

Ok, so it sounded more incriminating when it was taken out of context. The interviewer had asked if Rose was surprised that Scorpius had been voted the Sexiest Man Alive for the third year running. She said that she wasn't, that it wasn't surprising at all how many people loved and adored him. _Then_ she had said ' _Scorpius is just like that – he's someone that anyone could fall in love with'._ See, when it was in context it was totally justified.

Totally.

Rose doesn't respond, tries on a tactic she's used since she was twelve, which is if she wasn't asked a direct question, she does not supply a response. Unfortunately, she's attempting to use it against one of the best shrinks New York has to offer. Twelve-year old Rose's tactic isn't exactly a match for Dr 'more letters after my name than in my actual name because I'm so qualified'. McGonagall's patience is stronger than Rose's ability to keep her mouth shut these days apparently, so eventually the she ends up barking, "Is there a question in there somewhere?"

"Are you 'anyone', Rose?" McGonagall's voice is calm and curious and not accusatory. Rose kind of wished it were. She wished the woman were angry so then she could be angry too. As it stands, she's just really fucking frustrated. The therapist pushes, "Could you fall in love with Scorpius Malfoy?"

"I thought we were done talking about him" Rose means it as a warning. Her therapist doesn't heed it.

McGonagall's tone remains steady, "Have you already?"

"Ok that's enough!" Rose exclaims, angry at the woman's claims. Angry that she's even asking. Angry that Rose can't say for sure that it's not true, "I am marrying Brian."

"I know, and that's exactly why I'm asking." Dr. McGonagall remains calm and controlled. It's aggravating beyond words. Rose lets out a heavy sigh, sinks into the chair she's sitting in as she drags her free hand through her hair in frustration. She vaguely notes that it doesn't glide through easily like Scorpius' does when he runs his hands through his hair in frustration. And then Rose gets angry at herself because thoughts like that are causing her to have this conversation in the first place.

"Scorpius and I would never work," she sounds defeated. In that moment she realizes she is.

"I'm not asking if you'd work," despite only seeing her for a few months, the woman reads her like a book, "I'm asking if you love him."

Calmness or not, the question hits her like a freight train. Rose feels physically sick.

"I love Brian," she means it. She's fairly sure she means it.

"Still not what I asked," it's a rapid-fire response that gets right to the point and Rose can't help but let her rage boil to the surface again. It's all she's got to protect her right now.

"I'm not going to sit through an interrogation!" she exclaims and only now realizes that she's crying, "I love my fiancee – that's why I'm going to marry him."

"I don't mean to interrogate you, Rose," McGonagall is also a liar because she is 100% interrogating her right now, "I just want to know what's going on inside that mind of yours."

What's going on right now was basically a running loop of expletives and Rose is pretty sure McGonagall is the kind of person who wouldn't appreciate her knack for creative insults.

 _Scorpius would._

 _And fuck that needs to stop happening!_

"Brian makes me happy," Rose's voice is small now, trying to sell herself an unconvincing lie just as much as her therapist.

"If that's true," her tone makes it clear she does not, in fact, think it's true, "Than why are you here with me?"

Rose can't formulate an answer. She wants to give a lame excuse like ' _because this industry takes it's toll on people'_ or ' _because my mother is concerned so I'm appeasing her'_ , but she knows McGonagall would follow up with something like 'why is your mother concerned' and then she's have to explain all the ways Hermione reads her like a book and how she knows something isn't right with Rose.

Rose is adult enough to realize there's something not right. She just can't figure out what it is. She's fairly sure it isn't Brian though. Rose is fairly sure something wasn't right before Brian.

In fact Rose sometimes thinks Brian is her attempt at fixing whatever is wrong with her. Evidently it's not working.

"I'm here because…" Rose pauses, the silence of the room and the noise that's in her head overwhelming, "I'm here because…because something's not right with me. The issue is with me. It's not with Brian, it's not with Scorpius; it's with me."

"And what's not right, Rose?"

"I'm hoping you could tell me, it's kind of why I'm paying you," she cringes at her snappy tone and immediately apologises, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean that. It was rude. I'm sorry."

McGonagall just shrugs. She doesn't say it's ok – because it's not – but she doesn't chastise her either. Rose imagines in her thousand or so years on this Earth, Dr. Minerva McGonagall has had to deal with worse. It still doesn't excuse her rudeness.

"What's not right, Rose?"

"I…" she stops, thinks about the empty apartment, the lonely nights. She thinks about how she hasn't spoken to her fiancee in nine days and how she doesn't care. She thinks about how she can't remember what his favourite meal is. She thinks about how she doesn't fall asleep thinking of his face or listening to his voice. She thinks about how she hates explaining her life to him. She thinks about how she doesn't ask him to explain his because she knows she wouldn't understand. She thinks about how she doesn't want to even try.

"I'm here because…" she swallows around the lump in her throat, "Because I'm unhappy."

She just wants to be happy again. She just doesn't know how.

* * *

He comes home one night to find an unwelcome guest in his apartment – Farrah Lubacic, the young Latvian-American songstress who is currently on top of the pop charts. To call her unwelcome is probably unfair; after all, she is technically his girlfriend. At least that's what they're telling the tabloids. He makes no attempt to be kind, not when she's standing in his house without his permission.

"What are you doing here?" he asks with no hint of humor or amusement. He hopes it will make her leave. She throws her hair over her shoulder and makes a face similar to the one she displays when she's singing a sad song in her music videos (he hadn't sought them out, she'd shown them to him.)

"I needed to speak with you," her tone is breathy, completely fake, "And I simply couldn't wait."

He raises an eyebrow but indicates for her to continue. He really just wants to go to bed. Alone.

"I came to tell you that," she pauses, takes a deep, dramatic breath, "That I love you. And I know the contract says that if one of us falls for the other than the contract will be terminated. So you should call Maxwell because I am so in love with you it hurts."

He stares at her blankly but otherwise doesn't answer. He has no time for this right now. He spends his days on a film lot – he doesn't want to come home to another dramatic scene.

"Or," she takes a step towards him, hand on her heart, "Or we could throw away the contract. We could stop pretending we're only doing this for the cameras. We could be together – for real, like I know you want."

He almost feels sorry for her. And if he thought there was an ounce of truth to her words or that she was genuinely in love with him than he might show her some form of pity. But as it stands he feels no such compulsion. She doesn't love him, this he knows, because he hasn't allowed her to know him.

(He's only done that once with a woman, and she broke him. He's still broken; he suspects he always will be. He'll never allow someone so close again. He couldn't bare the pain twice)

"I'll have Maxwell call you about the contract," he says emotionlessly, a skill he borrowed from his father, "I'll let him know of the situation and explain we won't be seeing each other anymore."

She blanches. Apparently she didn't think he'd turn her down. Foolish girl.

"Wait, but-"

"I don't love you, Farrah," he's brutal and he feels nothing, "You mean little more to me than a fine pair of shoes. You are something to adorn my arm at a premiere. An accessory. And no matter what you think, you don't love me. You don't know me. And if you did you wouldn't want me. This is who I am – heartless and cold. Everything else is just acting."

He watches her lip quiver as tears well in her eyes. He hopes she can't see his hand shaking. He is cruel to her and he tells himself he doesn't care. The sooner she learns this lesson – that you don't always get what you want, and no matter how people act around you, they very rarely care – the better she'll survive in this industry. He's doing her a favour. One he wishes someone did for him long ago.

"You're an asshole," she curses at him, venom on her words.

"Yes," he agrees without hesitation, "But I'm the asshole whose house you've invited yourself into without permission. Please leave."

It doesn't feel good, being this unkind to someone who really doesn't deserve it. And that only serves as another reminder of the effect Rose has had on him – he used to be this mean to her all the time. The fact it now makes him uncomfortable means she's changed him. He doesn't know whether to thank her or curse her for it.

Farrah storms out and swears at him in multiple languages. She slaps him as well. It doesn't sting as much as he thought it would.

He sends a quick text to Maxwell to let him know of the situation. The response he gets is simple:

 _Want me to start interviewing possible replacements? I've got a list of 6 ready to go?_

Scorpius thinks about it for barely a minute.

 _No. No more contracts. I don't need them anymore._

He's done pretending.

* * *

"You didn't say that!" she's shocked and, quite frankly, appalled, by the story he tells.

"I did," she can hear a hint of bashfulness in his voice. Probably because he suspects she wouldn't approve of his behaviour; and he's right, she doesn't.

"Scorpius!" Rose scolds him as she sits staring out onto the New York skyline. He's in London doing promotional work for his newest film, and even though they're several time-zones apart, he still calls her quite frequently. She looks forward to every call.

"You don't have to be cruel when you break up with someone," she doesn't let him know she's been researching the subject herself recently. He doesn't need to know that. Her relationship – or lack therefore – with Brian doesn't concern him at all, "You could have been kinder."

"But I am heartless, Rosie," she hears him making coffee at the other end of the line, "Being cruel is in my nature."

She lets out a humourless laugh because she can tell the buffoon has managed to convince himself of his own lie. She sees right through it though. Nothing could be further from the truth.

"Scorpius," her tone is gentle and her voice is soft, "You're one of the most sensitive, big-hearted people I know."

He's silent. She continues before he hangs up on her.

"Emotionally repressed? Sure, but not heartless," she lets out a heavy breath and figures she might as well not leave things unsaid, "You're not cruel by nature – it's your defence tactic, and it's awful by the way. Anyone with half a brain can see through it. And when they do, they see what I see – a guy who would do anything for the people he loves. You're not the bad guy, Scorpius, no matter how hard you try to convince us otherwise."

* * *

Her words ring in his ears and he can't speak, lest he burst into tears.

She makes him feel as if he's made of glass – completely transparent, and breakable with the slightest amount of force.

She could shatter him in an instant.

She has before.

He'd let her again.

She makes an excuse that she has an early morning tomorrow and they say their good byes. Scorpius Malfoy goes to bed but does not sleep – can't sleep. He keeps hearing her words repeating in his mind.

" _A guy who would do anything for the people he loves."_

She's right, and that's exactly why he won't ever tell her how he feels. He might not be the bad guy, but he's not a good enough guy for her. So he'll stay silent, remain the best friend, and let her live in the peace that is not knowing you own someone else's heart.

Not knowing you've broken it.

He'll protect her from that. Because he's not the bad guy. At least he won't be for her.

* * *

Rose's epiphany comes in the strangest of fashions – by watching _Four Weddings and a Funeral_. She'd put it on to try and cheer herself up. It had always been a favourite of her parents' and by extension her's. She had just wanted a bit of fluff to enjoy like she used to before she even thought of acting as a career path. And if she's being completely honest, she needs to have a cry, and if there is one scene that's going to do it, it's the funeral speech. So she pops it on, sits down on the couch with a blanket and a bowl of popcorn, ready to laugh and cry in equal measure.

There's an exchange between Gareth (by far her favourite character) and Charles (played to perfection by Hugh Grant).

" _I've got a theory about marriage," Gareth says, "Two people are in love, they live together, and then suddenly one day, they run out of conversation."_

 _Charles provides a nondescript, "Uh huh" in response._

" _Totally. I mean they can't think of a single thing to say to each other. That's it: panic! Then suddenly it, it occurs to the chap that there is a way out of the deadlock."_

" _Which is?"_

Rose takes another mouthful of popcorn, oddly stoic for such a comedic film.

" _He'll ask her to marry him."_

" _Brilliant! Brilliant!"_

" _Suddenly they've got something to talk about for the rest of their lives."_

" _Basically you're saying marriage is just a way of getting out of an embarrassing pause in conversation."_

" _The definitive icebreaker."_

Rose stops the film and stares at the black screen for several moments, tears in her eyes. She guesses that's what her conversations with McGonagall have been about this whole time as well – that she talks about Scorpius a lot because she has a lot to say about him, to say to him. But her and Brian?

She doesn't talk about Brian because she has nothing more to say about him, or to say to him. She's worried he only asked her to marry him because it was 'the thing to do', not because he actually wanted to. She's worried she said yes because that's the polite response when you're asked that question. That's all Rose viewed it as at the time – a question. She didn't think of the commitment. She didn't think about the lifelong agreement. She didn't think of everyday spent waking up next to Brian, for the rest of her life until they die.

She's thinking of it now and Rose knows, now more than ever before, that it's not what she wants. She's not sure what she wants, but she knows marrying Brian isn't it.

* * *

Rose has been in a daze most of the day. She's been mentally preparing herself to have this conversation with Brian since he told her he was coming home. She's tried to anticipate what he'll say to her. She realises she can't predict him very well because she doesn't know him well enough to accurately anticipate his next move.

And therein lies the problem.

"Do you love me, Brian?" she asks, gripping the wine glass in her hand too tightly. She almost expects it to shatter between her fingers. He gives her a look as if he thinks she's being daft ( _someone else used to look at her like that a lot, only he was joking. Mostly)_.

"Of course I love you, Rose," he turns back to his iPad and continues typing away, "I'm marrying you."

She's aware of that. The giant rock that hangs heavy on her hand is a constant reminder of that. But at the end of the day it's signing a bit of paper. It doesn't really mean he loves her.

"What's my favourite colour?" she blurts out and wishes she could take it back basically straight away.

"What?" he's not listening to her, still staring at his tablet.

This is what she can't reconcile – she refuses to be the support act in her fiancee's life.

"What is my favourite colour?" she says it louder this time, forcing him to look at her instead of his stupid emails.

"I…" he was about to say _I don't know_ , but stopped himself. So he's choosing to lie to her instead. She's not sure what makes her angrier.

"Yellow?" he doesn't say it with any confidence at all and Rose absently thinks that he's a terrible actor. Then she remembers he's not the actor in this relationship, she is.

 _Or maybe they both are._

"It's purple," she says, her voice strong and commanding. There's a storm brewing within her and it's about to break.

"Ok, good to know."

 _He's still looking at the fucking tablet._

"And I don't like roses," she adds, thinking it will throw him off after his grand display for her birthday.

"Noted," is all she gets in response, and it annoys her no end because she is quietly confident that he didn't note it at all, that he's responding with minimal effort because he's more interested in his damn emails than he is with his future wife.

Rose has never been good at keeping her temper controlled – she's half Weasley after all – and it is taking every ounce of self-control she has to stop herself from yelling.

"Do you even care?!" He lets out a heavy sigh as if she's inconveniencing him. How dare she want her future-husband to talk to her every so often?

"Care about what, Rose?"

"That you don't know what my favourite colour is or my favourite flower?"

"No, not particularly," he does that 'gesturing at nothing' hand movement and she realises in that exact moment that it really annoys her, "Do you know what my favourite colour is?"

"No, I have no idea," her eyes are stinging and she really hates that her default setting when she's arguing with someone ( _who isn't Scorpius_ ) is to cry, "And I think that's a problem."

"Why is that a problem?" he asks with a gentle laugh and yep, that was exactly the wrong thing to do. Now she's just angrier, "It doesn't mean we don't love each other."

"Doesn't it?" she hears the desperation in her voice as her breathing becomes uneven. That makes him stop. He finally looks up from that damn tablet to look at where she's standing at the opposite end of their ridiculously long dining room table. Rose gets the feeling it's the first time he's looked at her and actually seen her in a really long time.

Possibly ever.

He lets out another heavy sigh – _she's such an inconvenience in his life_ \- and places his glasses on the table. He looks at her with those kind eyes of his and Rose doesn't lose herself in them. She knows exactly what's happening here, what's about to happen, and she knows she should want to stop it.

But she doesn't.

"What's this about, Rose?" he asks, slightly put-out, "Why do these inane little details matter?"

"Because if you love someone you should want to know everything about them; you should want to make that effort."

"Is that what you think love is Rose? Knowing pointless details about each other?"

"But they're not pointless!" she defends, remembering how special she felt when she got a bouquet of her favourite flowers as compared to how disheartened she was when her future husband went with generic, "They're the things that make us who we are."

"You favourite colour hardly defines you Rose."

" _That's not what I meant!"_ and now she's yelling. She can't even look at him so she stares furiously at the table, " _Us_ – you and I. Knowing these things about each other – knowing the little things make us a couple. It means we see each other and we take notice and we're important to each other."

He lets out another sigh and checks his watch.

"What do you want to know, Rose?" he asks in his perfectly impassive voice, "Ask me anything and I'll answer it."

There's a myriad of questions that fly through her head, but she notices a lot of them are actually things she should be asking herself. She picks the first one that she actually needs him to answer.

"Why did you propose?" her voice is tiny in the huge room of his penthouse.

"Because you're beautiful," he smiles as if he's just said something incredibly endearing, like that was what she wanted to be told.

 _Is that what he thinks of her? That all she cares about is that he thinks she's pretty._

 _He doesn't know her at all._

"And because I love you," he adds as an afterthought when she doesn't bloom at his first response.

There's a heavy silence between them and she can tell he just wants this little irrational outburst of her's over and done with as soon as possible. Rose suspects it will be over soon, and they will literally be done with. She idly wonders if he'd be so quick to make such wishes if he knew where it would get him.

"Why did you say yes?" he asks with a smile.

Her response surprises them both.

"Because you asked."

That makes him pause. He looks mildly affronted, completely sidelined by her answer. Rose herself takes a few moments to process what she's just said. It's horrifying to realise it's the honest truth.

"I thought I could fall in love with you," she continues in a voice barely above a whisper, "I thought I could fall in love with you and we could be happy, and…"

 _And I thought you were enough like my father – my kind loving father – to give me what my mother has; a man that loves her unconditionally despite her faults. I thought you'd be the easy way to avoid the horrifying truth that I was faced with; that I was falling in love with Scorpius Malfoy._

They stay in an uncomfortable silence again, the soft sounds of Brian's jazz music playing in the adjacent room.

"And could you?" he finally asks, his voice colder and the closest to 'unkind' she's ever heard it sound, "Fall in love with me?"

Rose feels the tears falling down her cheeks but can't gather the energy to raise her hand and wipe them away. Her breath starts coming in short sharp bursts as she comes to fully realise what's happening.

 _This is the end._

"If I said no, would I break your heart?"

He considers it for a moment, his face expressionless as he assesses her. Brian eventually gives his head a subtle shake, "No."

"Then I think we both have the all the answers we need."

* * *

She leaves the ring on the kitchen counter. Her hand – and her heart – feels lighter already.

Her immediate reaction as she walks out the front door is to call Scorpius and tell him the marriage is off. And she knows that's wrong. She didn't leave Brian because she is in love with Scorpius – she left Brian _because she's not in love with Brian_. That's what it's all come down to. She hasn't even fallen out of love; she just was never in love in the first place. And you can't marry someone you're not in love with.

Rose decides she'll keep it quiet for now; she'll tell her family and no one else. As soon as the press finds out she'll be living a waking nightmare and she'd like to put that off as soon as possible.

She won't tell Scorpius. Not right away. They've become friends again, but this isn't about him. She can't make it about him. This is about her. This time she gets to be selfish. She can work on herself and work on falling in love with herself rather than trying to fall in love with another guy.

Rose lifts her head and puts her shoulders back – she's going to cry ( _a lot)_ about what just happened, and that's ok. But what's most important is that she is going to come out the other side stronger than ever. She's going to emerge victorious. And she is going to take some time and put effort into appreciating herself. Because at the end of the day, she's all she's got to fall back on; she's got to make herself her greatest ally.

Rose pulls out her phone and dials Lincoln who picks up immediately.

"Hey Lincoln, I need you to come get me," her voice is a little shaky, but she's holding it together pretty well. Lincoln detects the smallest iota of distress regardless.

"Is everything alright?" he asks. She can hear him moving – he's already on his way.

"Yeah, I'm gunna need a room at a hotel as well," she releases a breath, "I just ended my engagement."

There's an extended pause that Rose can't read without seeing his face. After a few moments he final says cautiously, "Are you ok?"

"Yeah," she says with a smile as she heads to the elevator, "I'll survive."

And she will.

* * *

They manage to keep it quiet for a couple of months. The fact that Rose had been taking time off makes it easier – no one's expecting her to be attending events or film premieres any way, so it's not abnormal for her to become a bit of a hermit. She spends time at home with her parents who have been incredibly supportive through the whole ordeal. Make no mistake, Hermione cried, but they've both managed to remain mostly nonjudgmental about the whole thing.

"You haven't been yourself," Hermione tells her over tea, holding her daughter's hand, "If this is what you need to make yourself feel like yourself again, then it's what I want."

And then they both cried.

She still hasn't told him, but she's been in pretty regular contact with Scorpius. They've been sending each other quizzes again which makes her laugh. They don't speak every day – after all he's on set and he's been starving himself for the role so he gets hit with pretty bad fatigue, but they have contact at least once a week. It's nice to have a friend again.

Albus and Lily have been wonderful, randomly 'dropping by' to take her out to lunch or just to sit on the couch with her. It's what she's needed – to have people around her but to also spend some time alone. She spends her days pretending to be other people – she needs to figure out who she is. And what she wants.

Hugo sends her 'farts in a jar' because of course he does. It makes her laugh but also stinks up her apartment, so she's forced to ask him to stop. He video calls her a lot too, during which time he introduces her to all the new dogs he's rescued. Hugo seems to be on a one-man-mission to ensure every dog in England has a home.

Eventually she contacts her agent and confirms she's ready to get back to work. She's sent three scripts almost immediately.

Rose finally feels more like herself again.

* * *

He was expecting it. After all, she made no effort to hide how worried she was with his weight loss.

Scorpius wasn't exactly pleased with how he looked. He didn't recognise himself in the mirror and knew that he was nightmare material right now with his protruding cheekbones, prominent ribs and the overall sheen his skin had now that it was so far stretched over his skeleton and little else. His eyes were sunken in and his skin was greying. He looked hideous.

Rose, apparently, had plans to change that.

"Where are you?" this is how she greets him, or doesn't greet him, rather when she calls.

"New York," he knows she knows, otherwise he would have received a care package instead of a phone call. A care package means she's out of the state but knows he's finished filming so he can stop his diet. A phone call means she's in his general proximity and wants to see him eat for herself.

Scorpius enjoys getting phone calls.

"Me too! Are you at your apartment?" the lack of traffic in the background suggests she's indoors. The elevator music he recognises tells him exactly where.

"Are _you_ at my apartment?"

He can hear the smile in her voice, "Not yet."

There's movement at the other end of the line – she's walking again. She's very close.

His heart jumps at the thought and suddenly he's smiling too. Baring his too-bright teeth that clash with his too-grey skin. What a sight for her to see.

"What would you do if I told you I wasn't home?"

He turns when he hears his front door open. Rose Weasley shuffles in with a large bag slung over her shoulder, her phone pressed to her ear and hair bundled on top of her head. She's wearing jeans that are fashionably too big for her, a crop top, and a flannel shirt that's so baggy it almost swallows her.

It might be because he hasn't seen her in 6 months, but he's not sure he's ever seen her look more beautiful.

"I'd call you a liar," she's still talking into the phone when she assess him with a frown, "I goddam skinny liar. Jesus Scorpius."

They both put their phones away as she walks into his apartment like she lives here.

 _He really wouldn't mind if she did. In fact some might say that's what he's praying for._

"It's nice to see you too," he walks to his cutlery drawer because he knows that bag she's hauling around is full of food and that she is now going to watch him eat until she's satisfied he's no longer on the brink of death.

"It is nice to see you. I just wish there was more of you to see. What'd you lose? Like 60 pounds?!"

Rose sets the bag on the table, opens it up and starts taking out Styrofoam containers as he gathers plates. Scorpius could correct her, could tell her that technically he lost 68 pounds, but he doesn't want to worry her, so instead he just brings over utensils and crockery and starts setting the obnoxiously large dining table his interior decorator had gotten him.

Dear God he's salivating just at the smell.

"Something like that," he eventually says in response to her question, too caught up ogling the food to provide a more substantial response. He hears Rose let out an audible sigh and knows she's caught him drooling. He's only mildly ashamed.

"I got you the best steak in town!" she announces proudly, opening the largest container, "At least it was before it was transported across town for 30 minutes."

Scorpius has already started sawing away at it, 30 minutes old or not, it is still the best thing he's eaten in over 8 months. He may cry he's so happy. Just like he does every time she brings him food after he's lost ( _too much_ ) weight for a role. Rose has stopped chastising him for it, mostly, and instead is content to feed him as soon as physically possible to get him healthy again. She's a fixer, his Rose, and he thinks if she had taken a different path she would spend her days saving lives.

Rose continues unpacking as she starts talking about a few scripts she's been given, the fewer she's actually read for, how ridiculous the MET Gala is going to be in a few weeks, and how she's become a meme. _Again_. Scorpius sits and listens attentively whilst extremely unattractively inhaling his steak between mouthfuls of fries. She steals a few chips but leaves the rest to him. He finishes it all.

As he wipes his mouth on a napkin, he asks the one question he's always obligated to ask but never wants to.

"And how's Brian?" he enquires politely, trying not to sound incredibly insincere. Rose is silent. When he finally tears his eyes away from his steak to look at her, he sees her looking down at the left hand.

Her jewellery-free left hand.

Well fuck him sideways. How did he miss that?

"He's well, as far as I can tell," she looks up, catches him staring at her hand before he makes eye contact. Rose gives him a weak smile and shrugs.

"We're ah…we've broken up."

They sit in silence while Scorpius tries to reconcile what this means.

 _Rose Weasley isn't engaged. Rose Weasley is single. Rose Weasley is sitting in his apartment and she's single._

"I'd appreciate it if you didn't say 'I told you so'," she says it with a smile but he feels the hurt in her words.

"I never said anything?"

"I know," she smiles knowingly at him. _She reads him like a book_ , "But I know you were thinking it."

"You know me well enough to know I don't think, Rose," it makes her smile widen and Scorpius feels his heart swell. The smile doesn't reach her eyes, he can see that she's sad but she's not broken. No one can break Rose Weasley. She is an unstoppable force.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asks because he's fairly sure that's the sort of thing you're supposed to ask people when things like this happen. He really hopes she says no because Scorpius absolutely doesn't want to listen to how a man was stupid enough to let Rose Weasley go.

(He's lived it; he doesn't need to hear the spectator version as well)

"There's not much to say," she responds, thank Christ, "There wasn't any fighting. We didn't yell and scream at each other or throw insults around. We just…there just wasn't anything. I went three weeks without speaking to the man that would soon be my husband and it didn't bother either of us. It shouldn't be like that."

Rose plays with a fork mindlessly. Scorpius continues to shovel food into his mouth, but is consciously making an effort to do so quietly. He's also trying very hard to be empathetic instead of scowling at an imaginary Brian.

"We kinda figured out we weren't in love. And I want to be married to someone I'm in love with. At least at the start. So we just…called it a day."

"And Brian was ok with that?" if he was, then it is confirmation that he's the world's biggest idiot. Rose puts the fork down and rings her hands. She's more stressed. He wants to hold her and tell her it will be ok. Because he's sure it will be. He'll make sure it is.

"I think he sees it as failing, and he hates failing," she shrugs but he can see she's tense, "He'll get over it though. He'll find someone else who won't want what I want and it will work. I'm just not the right girl."

"Or he's not the right guy."

Oh God, did that sound too desperate? Probably. He hopes she doesn't read too much into it. She gives him a gentle smile and he forces himself to continue to breathe.

"Either way, we won't get in each other's way anymore, and I think that's for the best."

They fall into silence and Scorpius doesn't know what to do or say. He doesn't do the _emotion_ thing. It makes him achingly uncomfortable when he has to talk about his own feelings, let alone try to fix someone else's. It's the blind leading the blind if ever there was.

He thinks of what Rose would do if their situations were reversed – how would Rose comfort him if he'd just called off his engagement?

Simple – she'd make him laugh.

Scorpius is struck with an ingenious idea.

"Maxwell sent me a script for a musical about astronaut dogs as a joke," that gets her attention, "Wanna read it?"

"Read it?"

"Yeah, together. I'll be Captain Barko, you can be Lieutenant Digsalot."

Rose smiles but looks a little unconvinced. "I don't know…I was supposed to-"

"I've even got sheet music. There's a song called ' _How's a Dog to Live (With No Bones in Space)'_ ," he picks up his plate and starts walking over to where the Baby Grand piano lives in the entrance way, "Come on, I'll play piano and we can sing."

He's giving her his brightest smile and watches as she relents.

"You know my voice is awful."

"They're singing dogs, Rose, awful is kind of the vibe we're going for here."

And that is how ( _a single_ ) Scorpius Malfoy and _(a single)_ Rose Granger-Weasley ended up sitting at a baby grand piano, drinking sparkling water and red wine respectively, and singing in their best dog voices for two hours. They barely make it through a song without descending into giggles and Scorpius decides there will never be a nicer sounds in the world than Rose Weasley's laugh. She found almost every ounce of food in his house and basically forced him to eat it. Except the chocolate, that she kept for herself.

Scorpius can't help but notice how nice it feels to have her nestled beside him.

* * *

 _Scorosefan995: Observed tonight at the Scorose fanbase graveyard, millions of dead, decaying hands emerging from their graves as Rose Weasley announces she's single. GAME ON BITCHES._

 _KingdomofScorose: *claws my way out of my shallow grave, maggots falling from my hair.* *Stands on shaky, half-decaying legs, dusts off dirt, and adjusts skirt* "Prepare the memes! Your queen is back!"_


	5. Act Four

_Author's Note: If you're reading this chapter you are already well aware that I write fangirls/boys/dom in this story. I've gotten a lot of people identifying with them and saying they love them. I just wanted to make something clear – I love them too. The people of tumblr are some of the funniest, weirdest, most wonderful around. It is my go-to place to cheer myself up (or bawl hysterically at some tragic montage from some of my favourite fandoms). I have tried to write them with love. I hope I don't offend anyone or make them seem silly. That is absolutely not my intention. Fandoms keep things alive and I think they're amazing communities._

 _There's also a section in here that talks about fanfiction. If you couldn't tell BY THE FACT THAT THIS IS LITERALLY FANFICTION, I am a supporter and believer of it. That said, in this chapter the characters do take the piss a bit about fanficiton that they have written about them (confused yet? It's like fanfiction-inception). I hope that what I've written as intentionally weird/off-colour fanfiction doesn't unwittingly draw parallels to anything anyone reading this has written and I hope you don't take offense to it. FF is a creative outlet and I support it. I don't like all ff I read, some of it makes me roll my eyes pretty damn hard, but I know a lot of people probably think that about what I write as well. And that's ok. This is my way of expressing myself, just like other peoples' work that I'm not a huge fan of is their way of expressing themselves. It's all cool bananas folks. That said, I do think if you were a famous person and read a story someone had (lovingly) written about you boning someone else in really weird/unrealistic sex positions and saying weird shit, you'd probably be a little creeped out to. That's what I've aimed for here._

 _So again, I hope no one's offended. I hope you all enjoy it. And get ready folks – here comes the fluff_.

* * *

 **Act Four: In Which All That Has Been Left Unsaid, Is Said**

" _And I want you. And that's what's terrifying…Cause I'm an island; you are the ocean. And all of my sadness taken by the sea" – Taken by the Sea, Darren Hayes_

* * *

The tabloids immediately start publishing stories about ' _Scorose's Affair'_ with ' _sources close to the pair'_ confirming they were the reason Brian and Rose split up. She had expected it but it annoys her nonetheless. Everyone always asks about Scorpius in her interviews, and she's sure that's just going to become worse now things are officially – and publically – over with her and Brian. She feels bad because it not only implicates herself, but also Scorpius who has been receiving questions during his latest press tour about their supposed 'relationship'. (Which he has, true to fashion, answered with thinly veiled contempt and a reminder to the journalist that a failure to stay on topic will result in the termination of their interview.)

Brian is wonderful, and plays his nice guy role perfectly. He goes on record as stating that there was no third party involvement; that they're not splitting up because they're in love with other people.

" _Sometimes,"_ his statement reads, " _You can love someone and it just isn't enough. If we were different people in a different world it might have worked. But we are who we are in the world we've made for ourselves and the sad reality is, we're just better off as friends."_

Friends that don't speak to each other except through their publicists, but friends nonetheless apparently. Rose isn't bitter or angry about it – after all, she's the one that ended it. She's used to playing roles; alone-but-still-in-love ex partner is just the latest. And just like all the others, it's a lie.

Rose instructs her PR team to thank Brian's PR team for handling things so nicely. She does not speak with Brian directly. And she doesn't feel guilty about it for a minute.

* * *

Kitty sends her a message saying she's got a role for her that she's sure Rose will love. Rose knows Kitty has a pretty good compass when it comes to these things so she agrees to come into her office and read through this mysterious 'golden script' she's promised.

It's a film called _Life in Colour,_ and it's artsy as fuck but also has a lot of heart. Rose is keen.

"It's a musical," Kitty explains, "But you won't have to sing."

"How do I get away with not singing in a musical if I'm the lead?" Rose is honestly intrigued. One eyebrow quirks on Kitty's otherwise stoic face.

"Read the bios," she supplies somewhat unhelpfully. Rose flicks to her character's write up and reads about Hyacinth Priestly and her predicament. It causes her to smile.

"That. Is. Brilliant."

Kitty raises another eyebrow that Rose interprets as her saying, 'Duh.'

Rose scans the other character profiles and smiles to herself when she reads about Archie Murdoch, the beautiful love interest that her potential character imagines singing and dancing past her window each day. He's described as shy, but alluring – the kind of person who always assumes they're a wallflower but is noticed by everyone as they walk past.

" _Lithe and graceful in his movements, Archie walks on air with his head in the clouds as he sings about how beautiful the world is."_

Rose can think of the perfect candidate.

"Do they have someone lined up to play Archie?" she asks Kitty as they flick through the script over brunch.

"There's a few, but no one's signed contracts yet," Kitty is as vague as ever, "Why? Do you have someone in mind?"

Kitty's ability to read her like a goddam book hasn't changed.

"Yeah," Rose smiles to herself, "I know a guy."

* * *

She calls him at 8:16am on a Sunday and it is absolutely not a coincidence. Serves him right for calling her in the morning to propose their 'friends-ish' agreement. She's waited years for revenge – he should count himself lucky she didn't ring even earlier.

"I'm sending you a script," she says as soon as he picks up, "You should sign on."

"Good Morning, Rose," he says, voice thick with sleep and she tries to crush the mental image it conjures, "I'm well, thank you for asking."

"I didn't, but that's good to know," she takes a sip of her coffee, "As I said, I'm sending you a script and you should read it and consider it, obviously, but then sign on because it will be great."

She clicks send on her computer and hears his phone buzz at the other end of the line.

"If you're sending it to me," she hears him turn on a light and hears the rustling of sheets moving as he questions her. Crushing the mental image of him in bed is becoming more difficult, "Does that mean I should assume you have signed on to the film already."

"Not quite, it's conditional," she can't stop smiling. At the other end Scorpius puts her on speaker as he opens emails on his laptop.

"On what?" she knows he's asking just to hear her confess to it. The clicking of the keyboard keys at the other end signal he's almost found it.

"The male lead," she does not say it depends on him, because technically it doesn't. If there's someone else who comes along who can deliver the same chemistry and can sing like Scorpius than she would totally sign on.

She's just not overly confident there will be.

And yeah, singing was kind of a big deal with this one.

He makes a humming sound and even that sounds in tune and melodious. It kind of makes her want to punch him through her phone.

"Urgh," she grumbles, "You'll be perfect – even your humming is pitch perfect."

He makes a vaguely confused noise, "Why does pitch perfect humming make me a…wait."

The vaguely confused sound turns into one that Rose would almost classify as 'in pain' when she hears him click on what she assumes is the attachment she's sent him.

"Rose…" she pictures him running his hand through his hair in uneasy frustration.

"Yeeeessss?" she draws it out with a smile.

"Why does the synopsis for the film say it's a musical?"

"Because it is!" she almost explodes in happiness because honestly this could be their best film together yet, "Read it! Read it! Read it! I know you'll love it! It'll be great."

"A musical," he states again and Rose can hear his disbelief, " _You're_ going to star in a musical?"

"Sure am!" she's too jovial for this time of the morning, this she knows, "Providing I get a good male lead."

"But Rose you're…well, you're a bloody awful singer."

"I know!" she's giddy with excitement as she unveils the most brilliant element in the whole thing, "I'm playing a mute!"

There's a beat of silence which is quickly followed by a statement of disbelief, "You're a mute?"

"Yep!"

"In a musical?"

"Isn't it wonderful?! All of the dancing, none of the vocals – it's perfect for me!"

There are a few more moments of silence and she can hear him attempting to start a sentence several times at the other end of the line. He stutters rather magnificently before finally forming words.

"Did you miss the part where this is a musical?"

"It's a musical for everyone else, just not me!" Rose is walking around her apartment with a spring in her step. And she absolutely isn't this happy because she might be starring with Scorpius again. Nope. That's definitely not it, "My character can't sing, but imagines everyone else singing all their interactions."

"And what happens?" his voice is still husky with sleep, "She ends up having a brain tumour and that's why she's hallucinating? Schizophrenia perhaps?"

Rose rolls her eyes at the _serious method actor._

"No, Scorpius, not all of us like to torture ourselves doing heavy soul-crushing movies. It's just your standard boy-meets-girl musical. It has a happy ending."

"I don't remember the last film I did that had a happy ending," he ponders aloud.

"I'm pretty sure it was the last Kingdom movie," he scoffs at her – because he was so beyond teenage franchises now. She ignores his elitism, "I'm bringing you back to light and fluffy – it will be good for you."

He's not saying anything but Rose can hear his hesitation, so she tries to sell him on it.

"And if you don't think it will be challenging enough, then just be prepared that your character tap-dances a lot so you can always commit yourself to learning the routine instead of getting a stunt double if you want to prove how much talent you've got."

He's silent for several moments before he responds, "I don't have to prove it – the golden statue in my bathroom does that for me."

"You keep your Oscar in your bathroom?"

"Well where else am I supposed to keep it?"

"I don't know, in a locked cupboard somewhere?"

"Where I won't ever look at it? No, that's pointless. I need to shit at least twice a day, so twice a day I get to sit down and admire it."

"Bowel movements were the only thing not covered in the Friendship Quiz, I'm so glad you finally filled that blank. I was always curious," her deadpan delivery earns her a soft laugh.

"That the only thing you're curious about?" she hears him smirking, "There are scores of things you don't know about me."

"Oh yeah?" she takes the bait even though she shouldn't, "Like what?"

"Well Rosie," his voice is low and gravelly and her toes curl and her breath hitches. She hopes he can't hear it, "They're really things I'd have to show you for you to understand."

"Lemme guess – webbed toes that make you swim fast?" she tries to lighten the mood. He hums in response and goddam that sound should require him to have a license before you can wield it against unknowing females. Like Rose, for example.

"Not exactly," she hears the smile in his voice. He's mocking her, "But there are other parts of my anatomy that can do very wonderful things you wouldn't believe until you've experienced it yourself."

"Are you offering?"

"Would you say yes if I was?"

Rose doesn't think she's breathing and she doesn't understand how this conversation has managed to cover bad singing, serious acting, bowel movements, and now sexual innuendos and propositioning. Seriously. What. Le. Fuck.

"Depends," she says, hoping that if she smiles she'll sound more confident than she is.

"On what?" his voice is still husky and she's pretty sure it's not from sleep anymore – now he's just doing it to seduce her, sneaky prick.

(But also it's working. Abort Mission)

"On whether you sign up to _Life in Colour_ ," she smiles broadly when she hears him groan. The non-sexy type. Ok, the _less_ -sexy type.

"I don't know, aren't musicals a bit," he pauses and she's sure he's finding a way to say 'beneath me' without explicitly saying that, " _gimmicky?_ "

"Yeah, I'm sure that's what everyone thought when _West Side Story_ won 10 Oscars," she deadpans, "'This shit is _gimmicky'_."

She hears his gentle laughter conceding defeat, "That's because _West Side Story_ is a fantastic _film_ , not just a great _musical_."

"And _Life in Colour_ will be a great film too," she adds as an afterthought, "Providing it's got the right leads."

He sighs but she hears the smile in his voice, "And I guess you're convinced that's us?"

"Everyone's convinced it's us," she's walking aimlessly through her apartment and she honestly doesn't remember walking into the room she keeps all her memorabilia in, but here she is looking at their career painted in posters and statues, "They have been for years now."

"Do you think we can top _Beacon?_ " he asks, serious again.

"Do we have to?" she fires back. He doesn't answer.

"Look, just read the script," he can probably hear her smiling because she's beaming looking at the poster from the first _Kingdom_ movie. Goodness it's corny. When were they ever that young? "I think you'll like it. It's got substance, and I think we'd make it great."

He sighs and her tummy gets all tingly. She should get that looked at.

"Alright, but I make no promises," he's quick to add.

"Noted," she responds, but she has a sneaking suspicion that he'll be sold. The script is solid and one of his most annoying qualities is that he's actually a wonderful singer. They could make this great, "Let me know when you make a decision, yeah?"

"I will," he agrees. They say their good byes and hang up. Rose is quietly confident she's got her leading man.

* * *

Scorpius isn't sure he can film a movie with Rose Weasley again. Last time they did that they ended up naked and then not speaking for a year. He doesn't want to risk it again.

She seems to think he doesn't think it will challenge him, but it absolutely will, just not in the way she thinks. If he does do this film then it is going to take every ounce of his composure to not kiss her again. He just knows it. In fact he knows – if he's the love interest and she's the main star and it has a happy ending – he's going to have to kiss her at least once. _At least_.

He's not entirely sure he can do that without things getting really fucking messy again. Because he is not confident in his ability to stop at just one.

He'll read the script, he owes her that much. But he's fairly sure he'll have to say no. He can't fuck up what he's worked so hard to get back.

* * *

The script is genius.

And with _them_ it will be magic.

Fuck.

* * *

Scorpius doesn't tell her what his decision is. Instead she gets a call from Kitty informing her of the news.

"Congrats, _Life in Colour_ is going ahead," she doesn't have an ounce of emotion in her voice. Rose can hear her tapping out a text message while she's calling her. _How does she do that._

"I only said I'd do it if Scorpius was on board as Archie," she says, laying the bat.

"I know," Kitty replies, still giving her nothing.

"Soooooo that means Scorpius has signed on too?"

"Finalised last night," Kitty confirms. Rose punches the air and lets out a very undignified 'WOO!'

"When does the shoot start?" she exclaims because she wants to start it right now!

"The shoot's a fair way off, but you've got a tonne of pre-production work to get done starting in May. Dance classes, vocal coaches for the singing cast, choreography with full cast, plus we're arranging for you to meet with tutors from the American School for the Deaf so you can become proficient in sign language. You've got a long haul ahead of you."

And Rose can confidently say she is looking forward to every minute of it.

* * *

The one regret Rose will have of doing _Life in Colour_ is that it results in The Hotdog Incident.

It's during pre-production when Rose and Scorpius are knee-deep in dance lessons and choreography. Rose is given a reprieve for a blessed 40 minutes and she's never run from a room quicker in her life. She aching in places she didn't even know she had muscles, and if she gets told to point her toes one more time then she will be forced to start rampaging. With fire.

Given that it's a beautiful sunny day outside the prestigious LA dance studio they're practicing in, Rose takes her few precious minutes of solitude to bask in the sunshine. Unfortunately her legs cannot carry her past the gutter, so that's where she choses to make her bed – in the gutter out the front of the studio, moaning to herself and contemplating whether she should have signed on to this movie at all.

And this is where Scorpius finds her.

She notices that he's walking on wobbly legs also, and that he can't quite seem to make his feet land the pavement smoothly, instead each movement is a definite 'heel-toe' movement.

Classic tap dancer problem. At least that's what she assumes.

She lies there on the concrete in her too-large, too-old Hogwarts t-shirt that was once black but is now light grey, and a pair of baggy gym shorts she probably should have gotten rid of a long time ago, looking up at him through her heart-shaped sunglasses. Rose is immediately angry at him because even though he's wearing an old white singlet with more holes than a slice of Swiss cheese, and sweat pants that look like they're older than either of them, he still manages to look good. It's probably because he's all sweaty. And he doesn't even smell that bad.

Of course Scorpius Malfoy doesn't smell gross when he sweats. Rose, on the other hand, smells worse than wet dog whose eaten bad Mexican food. The universe just isn't fair sometimes.

She can't see his eyes behind his 'I'm too famous for my face' ultra dark designer sunglasses, but she gets the distinct impression he's scowling at her.

"I hate you," he says, and it sounds like it takes all his effort just to speak. She can empathise, "Me and my feet and every muscle in my legs hate you."

She sticks her tongue out at him because she can't argue – she kinda hates herself for getting into this as well right now.

"Don't talk to me," she responds, "I get 40 minutes to do nothing but lie here in a gutter and I'm gunna use every one of 'em."

"What about food?" he looks down the street to where there's a few street vendors, "We need to refuel."

"No time for eating. Entering coma," she mumbles in reply.

"You have to eat, Rose," he groans as he stretches out his calves, "I've seen you hangry and no one wants that."

"I sat down and now I can't move," Rose is not too proud to admit that she sounds like she's whining. And she sounds like she's whining because that is exactly what she's doing, "Go on without me. I'm a lost cause."

She's pretty sure he mutters some kind of expletive under his breath and heel-toes down the street.

Approximately five minutes later Rose almost jumps out of her skin when she hears what she is pretty sure is the sound of a whale giving birth somewhere within her immediate her proximity. Turns out it was just Scorpius Malfoy attempting to lower himself into the gutter beside her, two ridiculously large hot dogs in his hands.

"What are you-?" Rose doesn't finish her sentence before she gets cut off

"Take your damn hot dog so I can fall in this gutter without breaking my face."

She extends one of her hands and it is immediately filled with a delicious looking, gourmet hotdog covered in all her favourite toppings.

 _And Brian couldn't even remember how I like my coffee._

Rose pushes those thoughts away and looks over in time to see Scorpius literally fall onto the footpath, one arm catching his fall as he lowers himself in a motion similar to a push-up. (She suspects he learnt how to do that when he was 'getting into character' to be an ex-marine). He rolls onto his back so he's next to her – both of them with feet in the gutters, bottoms on the curve, and backs stretched across the pavement.

They were the epitome of grace and style.

No one would guess they were Hollywood actors.

"This hotdog looks amazing," Rose says, "I'm just not sure I have the energy to eat it right now."

"We have to," he says, although he's not making any attempt to eat, instead he's just lying next to her focusing on breathing, "We only get 40 minutes."

"We're down to 35," she replies, "I can eat a hot dog in 15."

"It's a big hotdog."

"You've seen Albus eat right? I can eat faster than him," she boasts but has little energy behind it. She thinks she sees Scorpius shudder out of the corner of her eye.

"That is truly horrifying," he murmurs then groans, "I think my leg muscles have actually liquefied."

"Impossible – if that was true you'd be leaking."

This is the kind of scintillating conversation she missed when they weren't speaking to each other. She tries not to think about those times too often.

Scorpius lets out another whale-groan and sits up.

"Well, I'm eating this hotdog," he says with a smile, "This sweet, sweet beautiful hotdog that is the essence of my life right now."

"Mmmmm," Rose feels herself salivating, "I want to eat, but also, I don't think I can physically sit up."

She looks down at her hand and sees the magnificence that is her lunch.

"Maybe I can eat it lying down?" she wonders aloud. Scorpius lets out a low laugh around a mouthful of food. It's probably his way of telling her it's a terrible idea. She ignores it.

Rose brings the hotdog to her face, opens her mouth…

And promptly pours half the toppings onto her face.

Scorpius chokes on his mouthful of food when he starts very ungracefully howling in laughter. Rose sputters and sits up, dusting ketchup-covered bacon and cheese off her face. Scorpius is so beside himself that he has to hold onto the edge of the pavement and put his head between his knees while he wheezes with laughter. Rose picks bits of bacon off her glasses and – in a moment she is not proud of but can't remember actually thinking about – plops it into her mouth.

Scorpius laughs harder.

"Shut up!" she says, smacking him on the shoulder, "I've just wasted some of my bacon bits."

He wheezes between each word, "That. Was. Wonderful."

And then he laughs again. Rose continues to pick bits of cheese off her face and put them back on her hot dog.

"Goddam, Rose," Scorpius says, taking his sunglasses off so he can wipe the tears from his eyes, "That was the funniest thing I've seen in years."

"Yeah well feel free to stop laughing at my misfortune at any time, Scorpius," she grumbles, looking at her half-naked hotdog, "My lunch isn't anywhere near as delicious anymore."

"Here," he picks some of the toppings off his hotdog and places them onto hers, "You've earned it."

She hits him again for good measure.

The worst part about The Hotdog Incident is that the paparazzi managed to catch it in a series of incredibly embarrassing photos (that Albus will later make a flip-book out of and send to her as a gift next Christmas). Which means that the fandom sees it.

Which inevitably leads to more memes.

The first one she sees is of Rose with her face screwed up, covered in delicious debris with the caption, ' _Just when I think I've got my life together…'_ ; the next she gets sent (by Scorpius, the asshole), is of the same photo but with the caption, " _When you promised yourself you were gunna get your shit together this year but then all of last year's problems you didn't resolve come back to haunt you'_. Scorpius also takes the liberty of printing one out to hang on the locker she has at the studio, which has the caption, ' _Rose Granger-Weasley attempting to eat a hotdog lying down is all of us trying to make it through this year.'_ She punches him in the arm for that one. Another has a picture of her on the red carpet with the caption ' _start of the night'_ , and then a picture of her eating toppings off her face with the caption ' _end of the night'_.

Tumblr, of course, takes a slightly different route – and that route is, as always, Scorose-focused.

 _IwillgodownwiththisScoroseship: Scorpius Malfoy gave Rose Granger-Weasley half of his hotdog toppings and if that isn't love than it doesn't exist_

 _RoseGWforQueenoftheUniverse: All I want in life is a friendship that looks like Scorpius Malfoy laughing his ass off at Rose Granger Weasley being covered in hotdog toppings_

 _Titanicwouldnthavesunkifitwasmadeofscorose: "Friendship"? Hahahahahahahahahahaha Sorry friend, are you new here? That isn't friendship, it is THE ship. #scoroseforever_

 _SM4RGW4LYF: Scorose eating hotdogs in a gutter = life goals._

 _SHMisGod2999: The only way that could have possibly been better is if he'd eaten it off her face_

 _IwillkneelforScorpiusFuckingMalfoy: That would take 'food porn' to a whole new level._

 _Scoroseisback975: Guys they were IN THE STREET_

 _IwillkneelforScorpiusFuckingMalfoy: You know what they say – food porn in the streets, real porn in the sheets._

 _Wellhydratedlipscommittee: Ewww guys. Don't corrupt the Scorose fandom_

 _JusticeforOskarandTabitha: We've all seen the fanfiction – you're perfectly capable of corrupting yourselves._

* * *

Scorpius sends her a link one night telling her to open IMMEDIATELY. She would almost be worried if the link wasn't to a fanfiction website. She promised herself she'd never read any of these; they tend to give her confusing imagery and nightmares, but Scorpius had insisted and if she doesn't read it she knows he'll just pester her about it until she does. She opens it and reads the title – ' _Hotdogs and Wieners'_. That makes her roll her eyes. Then she sees the rating and her heart stops.

She sends Scorpius an abusive text.

Rosie Posie [12:34am]: _HOTDOGS AND WIENERS? IT'S RATED EXPLICIT. WHY IS IT RATED EXPLICIT?!_

Perfect Hair Boy [12:35am]: _You'll just have to read it and find out._

Rosie Posie [12:35am]: _I outright refuse to read this_

Perfect Hair Boy [12:36am]: _Fine, I'll read it to you_

Rosie Posie [12:37am]: _I really don't think you should_

Perfect Hair Boy [12:39am]: _'He covered her breasts with ketchup, then sprinkled them with grated cheese.'_

Rosie Posie [12:40am]: _Please stop_

Perfect Hair Boy [12:43am]: _'Would you like some of my Wiener, Rose?' he asked her, fluttering his incredibly long eyelashes. 'But you've finished your hotdog,' she replied with her supple lips. He licked his lips and whispered sexily, 'I said my Wiener. I never mentioned my hotdog.'_

Rosie Posie [12:44am]: _HOW DO PEOPLE COME UP WITH THIS?!_

Perfect Hair Boy [12:45am]: _Don't judge people's creative outlets Rosie._

Rosie Posie [12:47am]: _When their creative outlets involve putting me in weird and quite frankly nasty sexual scenarios that may or may not include hotdogs, I am entitled to judge._

Perfect Hair Boy [12:50am]: _There's more: 'Omg," she said, pulling back from his throbbing erection, 'your cock smells like bacon.' 'I know,' he smiled down at her, 'I rubbed some bacon over it earlier'_

Rosie Posie [12:51am]: _I AM GOING TO HAVE TO LITERALLY BURN OUT MY EYEBALLS. Is this what my legacy is now? Hotdog erotica?_

Perfect Hair Boy [12:52am]: _Apparently. And you've doomed us all. Now everyone will think I call my penis a 'wiener'_

Rosie Posie [12:53am]: _We can end this conversation now_

Perfect Hair Boy [12:54am]: _I've never called him that in my life._

Rosie Posie [12:54am]: _Please do not continue_

Perfect Hair Boy [12:55am]: _I've named him Kevin._

Rosie Posie [12:56am]: _THAT IS THE WORST NAME FOR A PENIS EVER_

Perfect Hair Boy [12:57am]: _Ok, we'll rename him. What's a better title for him?_

Rosie Posie [12:58am]: _I am not helping you pick out a name for your dick._

Perfect Hair Boy [12:58am]: _What about Maximus?_

Rosie Posie [1:00am]: _"Father to a murdered son, husband to a murdered wife?"_

Perfect Hair Boy [1:01am]: _I'm not neutered_

Rosie Posie [1:02am]: _Then don't pick the name Maximus_

Perfect Hair Boy [1:05am]: _What about Titan?_

Rosie Posie [1:06am]: _What about 'IM NOT GOING TO HELP YOU NAME YOUR DICK SCORPIUS'_

Perfect Hair Boy [1:07am]: _Nah, that's too long._

Rosie Posie [1:10am]: _Maybe you should follow family tradition and name it after space shit._

Perfect Hair Boy [1:12am]: _That's…actually not a terrible plan. I could name him Mars – like the God of War_

Rosie Posie [1:13am]" _"Would you like to taste my Mars bar?" No Scorpius. Just no._

Perfect Hair Boy [1:14am]: _What about Jupiter – King of the Gods?_

Rosie Posie [1:15am]: _Or maybe you could name it Comet – goes so fast, if you blink you'll miss it_

Perfect Hair Boy [1:16am]: _Give me a night and I'll prove otherwise_

Rosie Posie [1:17am]: _I'm going to bed now_

Perfect Hair Boy [1:17am]: _Excellent. I can be there in five minutes_

Rosie Posie [1:18am]: _GOOD NIGHT SCORPIUS_

Perfect Hair Boy [1:19am]: _Good Night Rose, try not to stay awake thinking about my bacon-covered wiener_

* * *

The _Life in Colour_ set is exhausting and colourful and fun and infuriating and mind-blowing all at once. _Beacon_ was emotionally demanding and draining, but _Life in Colour_? This is something else. They have 16-hour day shoots that require them to dance until their toes are bleeding. The music is upbeat and happy, and Rose's face hurts from smiling through all the routines. The streetscape scenes take _weeks_ to film because there's so many people and such specific time cues, and so many different angles that need to be considered. One tiny mistake (of which Rose has made many) results in the set being reset and starting from scratch again. She has so many costume changes – some dresses that literally transform into other dresses with a tug of a belt – that she seems to have fittings every other day to ensure they're all going to fit and sit _just right_. Hair and make up takes hours and hers is different in nearly every scene depending on what her character is imagining at the time. Rose has longer days than anyone on set – even Scorpius – and she finds she's running on fumes of coffee that she inhales whenever she sees it.

It's exhausting.

And Rose has never loved an experience more.

* * *

Rose sneaks in to see Scorpius recording his songs for the film. She promised him she wouldn't go ( _"Because it's not like I'm going to hear you sing eventually…" "That's not the point Rose!"_ ), but turns out Rose is a big fat liar, and really he should know better by now. If he asks, she'll use the excuse that they were filming behind the scenes footage for the dvd extras and they'd asked her to sneak in. Which they absolutely hadn't – Rose had approached the people in charge of the footage and merely _suggested_ she could make a 'surprise' appearance. They'd loved the idea, appeared ashamed they hadn't thought of it sooner.

Rose did her makeup because she knew there would be cameras, threw on a casually elegant outfit, and went about infiltrating the recording studio she had absolutely no business to be in.

She sneaks into the control room to have a peak at him singing. Oh how hilarious it will be when he sees her watching him!

Rose forgot one very important thing – she'd only heard Scorpius sing seriously once when he serenaded that fan all those years ago at Comic Con. So really, she only had a very minimal idea of what his voice sounded like.

Turns out its really fucking good. Like, really fucking good. She watches as he sings so truthfully and she knows it's wanker-y to say but it feels like he's singing from his soul. His body is relaxed, he sways a little bit with the music and Rose honestly wonders why the hell he got into acting when he clearly has a gift for this instead (or as well as, because he's a ridiculously talented rat-bastard). And basically his voice is so pure, and the song's really sad, and he's singing about how he's in love but can't tell her how he feels, and he looks like he's actually really in pain himself, and Rose kind of, well...

She cried.

She ugly cried.

A lot.

And the cameras caught it all. (She's not wearing waterproof mascara. Shite)

Scorpius' song ends and the producer laughingly tells him Rose is in the studio listening. He drops some choice cuss words and walks out, coming to find her she assumes. She really wanted to be able to hide the fact that she'd been crying when he got in there.

She failed.

Scorpius takes one look at her - and a quick glance to the camera crew he knows is capturing everything - and smiles at her like she's a little bit pathetic.

Which yeah, she totally is.

"Was my singing that bad, love?" he asks with a smile and open arms. And that just makes her cry a little bit more because he called her love, and he doesn't give out hugs to just anyone, but he really does give the best hugs, and that song was really lovely, and yeah, Rose just kind of falls into his arms. Scorpius pulls a face at the camera, murmurs in her ear too quietly for anyone else to hear, and asks her if she's alright. Rose sniffles into his jumper.

"Yeah," she whispers, hoping the various mics won't pick it up, "That was just a really beautiful song."

He rubs her back and holds her close and Rose really regrets sneaking in now. She's never going to be able to hear that song without crying, of that she's sure.

* * *

The microphones caught all of it. The internet might actually explode from all the carry-on there'll be in the fandom.

She listens to the song some nights before she sleeps. She dreams of him.

* * *

 _Cynthia is flustered and embarrassed as she lays on the ground, mortified that on her first trip outside her building in years, she's fallen in the mud._

" _Here!" comes a voice she recognizes from her daydreams, "Let me help you!"_

 _Archie walks to her, every movement graceful, genuine concern in his eyes as he immediately begins to gather up everything that's fallen out of her bag._

" _You're the girl from 12B, aren't you?" he asks with a smile. Stunned that he's noticed her, Cynthia barely manages to nod in agreement. His smile broadens._

" _I've seen you dancing in the hallways – you're very good."_

 _She blushes so hard it's comical. He picks up a letter addressed to her and reads the name aloud._

" _Hyacinth?" he says it as a half-question, half-statement. She's reaching for her notebook to correct him, to tell him actually its Cynthia, but she's frozen when he murmurs, "You know that's my favourite flower."_

 _Cynthia decides she doesn't hate her name so much after all._

Neville Longbottom – lifelong family friend and director whose earned a reputation for being ' _unusual but incredibly, unexpectedly, brilliant_ ' with his films – calls cut and congratulates them both on the scene.

Rose's appointed makeup artist Ryan, who comes out to fix her face with a precision surgeons would be enviable of, struts over between takes. As he pats her nose he starts making conversation.

"It's just ridiculous," he sighs with mock-annoyance, "I've been in this business for 34 years and you two can even convince _me_ this is real."

Rose and Scorpius laugh awkwardly. She very pointedly doesn't look at him.

* * *

He looks at her and wonders if she's the only one in the world who _can't_ tell he's in love with her.

* * *

Scorpius watches the rough-cut footage of a scene where Rose's character is descending into the dark memories which forced her to stop speaking. It's heart wrenching. The emotions that fly across Rose's face, the way her entire body language changes as she adopts the persona of a child, everything is so emotive and well-balanced that Scorpius finds it a little hard to breathe.

This is her moment; what _Beacon_ was for Scorpius, _Life in Colour_ will be for Rose.

He can't recall a time in his life when he's ever felt more proud.

 _That's his best friend. And she's fucking amazing._

* * *

One of the final dance numbers they film is their touch-less waltz. She's been dreading it because it is, without a doubt, the hardest routine to perfect. They've got to try and convince everyone they're madly, but secretly, in love with each other without any words whatsoever. Trying to convey that in dance-form is a lot harder than Rose thought was ever possible.

And as the name suggests, they're not allowed to touch each other (" _It will show how you're so close, yet so far,"_ the choreographer had dramatically conveyed during rehearsals) which means they have to move perfectly in time with each other, without having the other person as a direct, tangible guide. It means being able to do the subtle twist of the shoulders at the right moment without warning; it means holding your hands barely a centimeter apart as you move around each other which gets incredibly difficult after you've been doing it for hours on end. The scene is supposed to end when Archie moves forward and inclines his head to kiss Cynthia, before they hear a noise and Cynthia runs off in a panic. It's the ultimate ' _so close!'_ moment of the film.

They're on their 14th attempt at the scene, having had a few days break in between to regroup because this shit is hard. The lighting is set to make it appear as if it's night time, the two of them dancing around each other on top of a building, fairy lights their only illumination, the bustling brightly-coloured city far below.

(It reminds Rose of Scorpius' New York apartment but she doesn't voice that thought because it will lead to follow up questions like ' _why does a very romantic set remind you of the apartment of someone you are strictly friends with?_ ' and she doesn't think she can answer those)

Rose is in perhaps her favourite dress from her large range of costumes, which is a soft lilac number that hangs just past her knees and twirls wonderfully whenever they do a spin. Scorpius is wearing light grey trousers and a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up ( _thanks costume girls for making him look goddam delectable. Rose cannot resist a man with half-rolled up sleeves_ ), and even under all the makeup, she can tell he's exhausted. She is too. She really hopes they nail this.

They don't.

They screw it up once.

They screw it up twice.

And on the third attempt for the day (17th overall), something a thousand times worse happens – they ad-lib sheer perfection. Because they screw it up.

They've moved slightly off target with all of their cues, meaning that on the final one, where Rose is supposed to step backwards to put more space between them, she missteps and trips on a half-step. Without thinking, Scorpius reaches out and grabs her, pulls her into him in his attempt to stop her falling. They both stare at each other, terrified that they screwed it up and will have to start over. They don't break eye contact as they both pray for a miracle.

It appears.

Neville yells, " _Keep going!_ "

They're not being told to stop immediately. Maybe they can save this.

Maybe, if Rose can force herself to move. But instead, she just stands there looking at him dumbly, apparently completely losing her ability to make shit up on the spot when she's got Scorpius Malfoy's arms around her.

She doesn't know what to do. Luckily, Scorpius does.

He relaxes his hold, looks down at where his hands hold her close. He follows the path of the hand he's got clutching her upper arm, his touch turning gentle and caring as it slides down to her elbow. Rose follows the movement also, transfixed with how it feels through the soft fabric of her dress. She looks to where her own hands lie, clutching at the fabric covering his chest like a lifeline. She relaxes her grip, stretching her hands out until they're lying flat against his chest in a manner than is no longer desperate, but now affectionate. Rose looks up to see him watching her, his face oddly serious. Without thinking, she drops her gaze to his lips before she remembers she probably shouldn't do that, and raising them back to his eyes.

He's almost smiling at her.

The hand he has at her back pulls her closer with a gentle pressure. She leans in willingly, not sure if they should really be doing this because this feels like the set up to something not-entirely made up, which means it's partly real which means it's not just Cynthia and Archie almost kissing; it's Rose and Scorpius almost kissing. And the last time Rose and Scorpius almost-kissed they ended up following it up with actual-kissing naked and that probably shouldn't happen again.

But do you see Rose stopping? No. Because she's an idiot.

Scorpius inclines his head, moves towards her slowly as he all-but closes his eye. Rose lets out a shaky breath and moves towards him, tilting her head up in a manner that cannot be misinterpreted as anything other than inviting.

As they're about to kiss – _and seriously shouldn't someone be calling 'cut' by now?_ – Scorpius whispers so softly she's not sure the mic hears it, " _My love."_

And then someone kicks a garbage can and the spell is broken.

Recognising it as her cue – and also just because she is terrified and is acting on instinct – Rose pushes Scorpius away and steps back, this time landing on the step properly. Before he can do or say anything further, Rose gives a slight shake of her head and runs away off set. Scorpius stands in the centre of the stage, making no move to follow her, flexing his hand and trying to ignore the fact that it feels impossibly empty now.

" _CUT!"_ Neville calls and the crew applauds, "Brilliant work you two!"

Rose smiles while she tries to calm her heart. She walks back onto the set but does not stand close to Scorpius.

"I like it better this way! We're keeping it in!"

Neville walks away beaming and completely misses The Moment occurring two feet away from him.

* * *

Scorpius stares at Rose, willing her to say what he can't. She goes to speak several times but always falters.

He tells himself to be brave; to confess and tell her what they both already know;

 _That wasn't acting._

 _It's never been acting._

 _This is real_.

 _I love you._

He almost thinks he has it, almost thinks he's finally got the courage to say it, to tell her he meant it when he called her 'my love' and that he'd like to continue doing so.

But then someone calls his name, his walls go back up, and he walks away without looking back.

He does not see her willing him to stay.

* * *

The press tour for _Life in Colour_ happens approximately 12 months after filming has wrapped. During that time Scorpius has filmed scenes for 4 other films (2 as cameos, 2 as leads), and Rose has completed a mini-series, and an ensemble comedy film.

Since wrapping the shoot, they've spoken almost every day. When they see each for the first time in months, completely without thinking, Scorpius envelopes her in a hug and she kisses him on the cheek as she draws patterns on his back with her finger tips. They each tell themselves it means much less than it does.

* * *

The irony is that the story isn't even romantic.

Of all the things that have occurred between them that have _definitely_ erred on the side of romantic, this wasn't one of them.

But _you_ try telling the fandom that.

They're flying from LA to London in a studio-provided plane and Rose is not complaining. She knows she's lucky to be able to do this for a living, and to be able to walk onto a private plane, take a seat, and ask no questions besides how long until they land. She knows this is a luxury that no normal human ever has access to. So she would like it known that she is absolutely, 100%, _not_ complaining about the plane.

All she'll say is that when you're transporting seven people on the one plane, only having four proper sleeping cots on board seems a little poorly thought-out. In fact, it almost immediately necessitates sharing.

Add in the fact that Maria, the producer along for the media circus, is 6 and a half months pregnant with twins and therefore automatically gets awarded ownership of one cot for herself and her two yet-to-be-exhumed spawns, and you've got a serious case of someone needing to be better at math.

Scorpius had claimed one early (he injured his back while he was out in the wilderness and sleeping in chairs has been basically impossible ever since) and had settled in to sleep for the majority of the flight. He's lucky like that – once he's horizontal he can sleep just about anywhere.

Rose is not.

Rose cannot sleep upright in the very comfortable, but not bed-worthy chairs she has. Rose also cannot sleep on the floor (yes, she did try), and Rose cannot sleep in any of the remaining two cots because they are occupied already. She doesn't want to pull the 'I'm the main star, make allowances for me!' diva card, but she also knows she'll be the one who'll be torn apart in the tabloids for committing the felony that is aging in this industry. She's mostly past caring what they say about her, doesn't take it to heart like she used to, it would just be nice if they could focus on something other than her completely normal wrinkles and dark circles.

Rose made a valiant effort to sleep in her seat. She honestly did. But apparently she made a lot of noise whilst making said attempt (lots of 'urgh' and 'hmph' and 'gah!' noises she imagines), because she's drawn the ire of one sleeping titan.

"For fuck's sake, Weasley," Scorpius murmurs into his pillow from where he's sprawled on the cot, "Just share this one."

"What?" she hisses in a stage whisper.

"Stop fucking moaning and get on the cot."

"I can't share a bed with you!"

Even though it's not really a bed, and she totally, absolutely could (Neville and Thomas Harbridge, another Producer, are top-tailing it on one of the cots), Rose is a little aghast at the suggestion. Sharing a bed for them would be, well, weird.

( _And wonderful and dangerous because if there's one thing she does not need to keep her awake at night it's knowing the feeling of having Scorpius Malfoy wrapped around her and knowing it will never happen again_ )

"You either get over here and share," he hasn't even opened his eyes, he just keep muttering into his partially-drooled on pillow, "Or you shut the fuck up so I can sleep, because I'm not enduring another 10 hours of you making those ridiculous noises."

Rose wants to stay in her seat just to spite him, but she also really _really_ wants to sleep.

Maybe just this once.

She picks up her blanket and shuffles over to the other side of the cabin where Scorpius is lying with his back facing her. He shuffles a bit closer to the edge to give her room to slide in behind him.

"No funny business mister!" she means it jokingly. Kind of, "Stay on your side."

"Will do," he murmurs before adding, "If you steal my blanket I will end you."

"You'd miss me."

"Not more than my blanket."

And with that charming little endearment, Scorpius begins to snore softly and Rose closes her eyes to feel the warmth of his back to hers.

See – totally not sexy.

The thing is, the photo said otherwise.

One of their co-stars, Liesel O'Flanagan who had absolutely no filter, snapped a photo of them during the flight. When they'd shifted. And were sleeping in each others' arms.

Slightly less not sexy.

During the flight, Scorpius had rolled over to face Rose, and had wrapped his arms around her. Rose, in turn, had entwined her fingers with his where they rested on her rib cage. Although you couldn't really see in the photo, their legs were entwined, and Scorpius' second arm was resting under the pillows. Where Rose's hand also was, holding his.

If one didn't know better, they'd say they were spooning.

Which yeah, they totally were. Whoops.

In Liesel's defense, she did upload photos of everyone asleep on the plane, made some funny joke about how everyone's so tired and bunking together, and didn't think of the implications.

Like the total meltdown of fans everywhere.

The photo goes viral, the fandom starts losing their absolute shit, and when Rose wakes up it's to some very stern texts from Kitty. Not that she reads them right away; she's too busy memorizing what it feels like to hold his hand. She's running her fingers along his, gliding over his knuckles and drawing patterns on his skin. The moan he makes rumbles through his chest and into hers.

"Stop that," his voice is low like it's been over the phone so many times, but this time it's right in her ear and she can feel his breath move her hair and tickle her neck.

"Or what?" she challenges back, whispering softly to avoid anyone else hearing their exchange.

"Or I am going to start doing things that we really shouldn't have witnesses for."

Rose's toes curl and her body starts tingling. She can't tell if he's joking. She's not sure she wants to know. She twists as much as she is able to in his arms to try and see his face. His eyes are closed and his breathing is slowing again. He's asleep. He probably won't even remember the exchange, probably doesn't even notice it's her he's talking to.

Rose extracts herself before someone can take another photo or make any more comments. She looks down and Scorpius has barely moved, clearly still sleeping. She smiles at the sight he makes – more peaceful than she's ever seen him when he's conscious. It's like that brilliant mind of his is finally given a moment to rest. Content is a good look on him. She's about to head off to have a shower before they land when she sees his (now empty) hands searching her newly vacated spot, seeking out her warmth. His face scrunches up, his forehead furrowing quite adorably.

Rose feels her heart swell and that's a bit of a problem because she's probably not supposed to have feelings like this for a friend.

She's not sure that's all they are anymore. Everyone seems convinced they're considerably more. The captions on the Instagram photo range from ' _omg they are seriously too cute_ ' to ' _they're totally banging #homewrecker'_ all the way back to _'WHY THE HELL ARE THEY NOT MARRIED?!'._

Rose tries to ignore it, tries to not read into it. But when she falls asleep in the back of the car as they leave Heathrow later, and she feels him lay his jacket over her, she finds it really hard to convince herself there's nothing going on here.

* * *

Rose invades his dreams more often then usual and it takes him a week to realise why.

His jumper smells like her perfume.

Even after he washes it, he will always remember it as being the jumper than used to smell like her from that time he was able to hold her in his arms for a blissful six hours.

He can never wear it again

* * *

They kick off the press tour by appearing on a British late-night talk show and they fall into rhythm just like old times.

The host is having a field day, loves how they're interacting so brilliantly. They finish each others' sentences, laugh at each others' jokes. Rose has to admit sitting besides Scorpius and letting him take half the question is nicer than doing it alone, even if she does remind herself not to hold her breath every time he brushes against her (because there are cameras and she doesn't need to become a meme. _Again_ ).

At the conclusion of the night their host, Alexander Maguire, a charming, always-smiling man in his forties who likes to tell anecdotes about his children and wife, fires off a series of questions he asks all of his guests. Rose has been dreading it. Because she knows what the third question is and she would much prefer not answer it. She had considered lying; in fact she has a very decent lie prepped and ready to go in her head.

And then they ask the question and suddenly she has nothing to say but the truth.

"Question number 3!" Maguire announces happily, reading from a card Rose is sure he doesn't actually need for prompting, "Who was your first kiss, and when was it?"

Rose doesn't say a word, doesn't trust herself to. She can feel Scorpius watching her.

"I'll go first I guess," Scorpius says at her silence, "It was my godmother's daughter. Her name is Anna, and I was 11. It was very quick, I'm fairly sure I used my move into my new bedroom in the Western Parlor as reason to break up with her."

That sends Maguire into a fit of giggles.

"Oh yes, you simply can't have a girlfriend when you live in the Western Palour!" he exclaims excitedly.

"Exactly! Glad to see you understand."

There's another pause as the applause and laughter dies down. She should just lie. She should just lie. She is a perfectly capable liar. It's practically what she does for a living. She even has one planned.

"Rose?" the question comes from the host and she can feel Scorpius watching her again.

"Well…" _lie, lie, lie, you do it to yourself all the time, what's the difference lying to an audience?_ , "I was 14…"

Not a lie, but you can still recover. _Do not tell them the truth._

"And it was in acting class…" she chokes on something rising in her throat. It could be bile. Or her heart. Or her inner-self trying to strangle her before she can continue. She's fairly sure its one of those.

"No!" Scorpius says from her side, drawing her attention. He's already figured it out. Fuck.

She shouldn't look at him.

She looks at him.

"Yes," she's not sure why she's whispering. She has a very real fear that they're about to have _A Moment_ in front of a live studio audience and that simply cannot happen.

His expression softens and he looks her right in the eye.

Well shit, here they are, having A Moment.

"Have we missed something?" Maguire asks, a welcome distraction. Rose turns away from Scorpius to face Maguire, a smile painted on her face.

"I, ah…my first kiss was when I was fourteen, in acting class, and it was with," she swallows and tries to force herself to say something, _anything_ other than the truth.

"…Scorpius Malfoy."

Turns out acting for a living doesn't make you a good liar when it counts. How disappointing.

The crowd has gone wild, with whoops and whistles being heard throughout the studio. She tries to smile through it, shrugs and laughs it off.

Scorpius isn't laughing. Instead he takes her elbow to get her attention, turning her to face him.

"That was your first kiss?" he's incredibly serious and she really doesn't appreciate it. She needs him to back her up here and laugh it off, because if he doesn't start laughing then she won't start laughing and if she doesn't laugh she'll cry. So Scorpius really needs to get his shit together and take one for the team and start howling with laughter right about now.

"Oh how wonderful!" Maguire exclaims, "You've been doing this for years!"

"I can't believe that," Scorpius murmurs, largely ignoring Maguire. Rose tries to make a recovery and inject some humour into the very humiliating truth she just exposed about herself.

"Yes! And you said I was awful!" at least she doesn't sound _too_ wounded.

The crowd, and Maguire, howl with laughter. Rose delivers a laugh so fake it could have earned her a Razzie.

"I didn't," Scorpius sounds floored and embarrassed.

'You did!" Rose responds, Maguire is wheezing, "I was traumatised."

Again, she's only partly kidding. She hopes they can't tell.

Rose can't look at Scorpius too long – he keeps doing this awkward eye contact thing like he's trying to see through her. She feels like he's succeeding. He takes her hand and holds it in both of his, holding it over his heart.

And fuck. Here's another Moment.

"Well Rose, I sincerely apologise for my fourteen year old self," his tone is joking but he maintains eye contact and Rose doesn't see mirth in his gaze, "It is an honour to hold that title."

The crowd cheers and swoons in equal measure and Rose knows she needs to take back her hand because she isn't smiling anymore, and neither is he, and this whole thing just got really serious. She clears her throat, forces a smile and shrugs.

"It's not really a title," she laughs, looking back to Maguire for an escape, "Being someone's first kiss isn't exactly a lifetime accomplishment is it?"

"I don't know," Maguire says, barely managing not to giggle. She's getting very sick of the sound, "When that person ends up being an international movie star I think it counts."

"Well he's an international movie star too, so it kind of cancels each other out."

"I think it's quite romantic," Scorpius supplies _entirely unhelpfully_. She throws him a look over her shoulder and if his knee could stop touching her knee right now that would be great.

"I do too!" Maguire jumps on excitedly.

"It was in acting class," Rose covers somewhat desperately, "It doesn't really count at all."

"I think it counts," Scorpius says too quietly to be taken as a joke. Yeah if he could stop being all sincere and lovely that would be super helpful, because all it's doing right now is reminding her lady parts of how he feels wrapped around her.

Yeah, she needed to distract from this line of questioning as soon as possible.

In a completely unsubtle change of direction, Rose chimes in with, "I believe there's another six questions to go, Mr. Maguire."

Everyone laughs at her obvious attempt to a sloppy change of conversation, but Maguire – thankfully – continues. Rose thinks she's successfully avoided further discussion about the subject, only to be proved terribly optimistically wrong.

They're walking backstage when Scorpius catches her by the elbow, pulls her into his dressing room as he tells their agents they'll only be a minute. The disapproving look on Maxwell's face does not escape Rose.

"Wha-?" she doesn't get to finished her question.

"Was that true?" he asks, looking extremely serious. She tries to laugh it off.

"Scorpius…"

"Was it?" he's not letting it go. _Please let it go._ She lets out a heavy sigh when her prayers are evidently not answered.

"Yes it's true," she crosses her arms and tries to feign an indifference she does not have, "What? Surprised to find out that no one thought I was attractive at 14? You should know – you wouldn't let me forge-"

He's kissing her.

 _Holy fucking hell Scorpius Malfoy is kissing her and they are not on set guys, what is going on?_

She's not sure when it happened but her eyes are closed, she's taken hold of his shirt and feels herself be directed by him as he cups her face. There's no tongue, no groaning, no groping, just a sweet and heartfelt kiss that is somehow even more intimate. They pull away from each other and Rose is slightly less horrified by her actions when she sees that he's still got his eyes closed and seems a little flushed too. His eyes flutter open eventually and he lets out a few deep breaths. There's silence, and Rose has never been good with that. So she breaks it.

"What was -?"

"My atonement," he answers quickly, stepping back from her and resuming his naturally perfect stance, _acting like what just happened didn't fucking happen,_ "For the horrible first kiss I gave you."

"I'm pretty sure of the two of us, I was the one who got the bad critique."

"You deserve more than someone who openly mocks you and calls you names," Scorpius makes eye contact with her and she's fairly sure they're having another Moment, "I'm not sure I've ever actually apologized have I? Well, I am sorry for the horrible things I said to you and how I treated you when we were younger. I won't be like that. Never again."

Yup; Moment number 3 in the space of thirty minutes. They're on a roll.

She's a little dumbstruck and again goes to her (not always) faithful back-up plan – humor.

"Come on, Malfoy!" she laughs, awkwardly slaps his arm like they're old chums and winces instantly at her lack of social skills, "It's call acting!"

"Not always," he flashes her a smile and which only makes his already cryptic message all that much harder to interpret. He slides a stray curl behind her ear and looks contemplative, "This will be _our_ first kiss. The real one. Without cameras, and when we're old enough to mean it. Think of this, not that other one."

And then he just walks over to the door, opens it for her and waits for her to leave, hand in his pocket like he hasn't just left her to deal with the aftershocks of a bloody insane interaction. Rose stumbles out the door and tries incredibly unsuccessfully to wrap her head around what the fuck just happened.

It's not until later, when she's climbing into the back of the large black SUV the studio sends her home in, that she remembers his wording.

 _Our first_.

Does he expect there'll be more? Does she want there to be?

As is the norm, Scorpius Malfoy has managed to leave her confused and baffled with a very simple action. She wishes she still hated him; it would come in handy at times like these.

* * *

He is a wasted man.

A wasted foolish man.

But he's going to hell anyway, he might as well get used to torture now.

Kissing Rose Weasley is just practice for the afterlife. It is the cruelest and sweetest torture he knows; to know the feel of her lips on his, and to watch as she leaves. He will only kiss her once. Just once, for his atonement.

And he is all the more foolish for thinking so.

* * *

Rose can't sleep so she messages Lily.

Alegra [23:32] _: Scorpius kissed me._

Lily the Wonderful [23:33] _: Um, yeah, he does that all the time. Is this a test? Because I was being honest when I told you I 've seen your movies._

Alegra [23:34] _: No, I mean just now. After the show. He pulled me into his dressing room and kissed me. WHAT DOES THIS MEAN._

Lily the Wonderful [23:36] _: Why would he do that? (Punctuation Rose – lack of clarity is no excuse for not using the correct punctuation)_

Alegra [23:37] _: I DON'T KNOW (and thanks mum)_

Lily the Wonderful [23:38] _: Well did he say anything?_

Alegra [23:40] _: he said it was to make up for screwing up my first kiss_

Lily the Wonderful [23:41] _: Like in a movie?_

Alegra [23:42] _: No, my first kiss. Ever._

Lily the Wonderful [23:44] _: He was your first kiss?_

Alegra [23:46] _: Yup. Do not judge me._

Lily the Wonderful [23:47] _: *_ _judges*_

Alegra [23:47] _: It was part of a class!_

Lily the Wonderful [23:48] _: Then it doesn't really count_

Alegra [23:50] _: I know, but now he kissed me for real. No cameras, no script. Just because. I don't know what to do with this information_

Lily the Wonderful [23:53] _: Maybe he's having a mid-life crisis? Or going through psychosis?_

Alegra [23:55] _: Gee thanks, I feel so desirable_

Lily the Wonderful [00:02] _: Well I could have said it was obvious and that I've been saying since Christmas six years ago that he's in love with you, but I didn't think you'd want to hear that._

Alegra [00:06] _: Yeah, let's say it's psychosis._

* * *

 _ScoroseShipperTheFirst – he was her first kiss? GUYS I CAN'T EVEN DEAL RIGHT NOW_

 _ScoroseFanatic5000 – JUST HURRY UP AND GET MARRIED_

 _ScoroseOTP4EVA – we already know their children will be beautiful…_

 _RoseGW4Queen – guys guys GUYS, remember how when Scorpius won the golden globe for Beacon and they did that skit with Albus Potter? Well just imagine – JUST IMAGINE – that Rose wins a golden globe for Life in Colour and AND GET THIS, during her acceptance speech THEY ANNOUNCE THEY'RE GETTING MARRIED AND HAVE LOVED EACH OTHER FOREVER AND ARE GOING TO LIVE HAPPILY EVER AFTER WITH THEIR THOUSANDS OF BEAUTIFUL BABIES LIKE SERIOUSLY GUYS JUST IMAGINE IT_

 _JusticeforOskarandTabitha – well look at what you've started RoseGW4Queen, now all the Scorose shippers have combusted from joy. Sit in the corner and think about what you've done._

* * *

Rose and Scorpius are on the Graeme Norton show and honestly she should have prepared for things to get ridiculous. From the moment her stylist insisted that she wear a jumpsuit rather than a dress, she should have expected some kind of insanity to take place.

And take place it does.

They've been talking about the film and about how they learnt to dance together and how it was not at all as romantic or fabulous as people seem to think.

"It was basically just a lot of sweat and injuries," Rose explains with complete honesty, "Nothing sexy about me dancing in 12 year old sweatpants and leg warmers."

"Or eating hot dogs," Scorpius supplies incredibly unhelpfully. She elbows him in the side but the crowd has already exploded into laughter. Rose bites the inside of her cheek to stop herself from smiling.

She does enjoy doing interviews with Scorpius.

Except when it leads to weird dressing room kisses.

(Or _especially_ when it leads to weird dressing room kisses? She honestly isn't sure. They've just kind of pretended it never happened. Which, you know, probably isn't the _healthiest_ reaction but they're running with it.)

Rose knows Graeme is working up to something, talking about how dedicated their fans are, and how the fan-base ( _"Scorose fanatics,"_ he explains their moniker is as if neither of them are aware) appears to have very active imaginations. Rose cringes and Scorpius screws up his face. Graeme picks up on it.

"You both look terrified!" he exclaims, faking astonishment quite well.

"Yeah," Scorpius drags the single syllable answer out, "We've had a bit of exposure to their…creations."

"And while it is flattering," Rose jumps in to smooth things over, "Sometimes their creations are…well…look they're um…they're interesting. Very unusual."

Graeme chuckles, "So basically they're awful."

"No!" Rose jumps in to ease the blow. She appreciates the fans, she does. Just not when they're writing about bacon-wieners, "No they're just…very _unique_."

"There's a story about me having a bacon flavoured…"Scorpius gestures to his crotch and the crowd is in hysterics, "Which you know…it's just…it's a bit odd to think of people out there looking at me and going 'you know what? I think his penis tastes like bacon'. What is it about me that makes people think that? Do I have the face of a man with bacon-junk?"

By this time everyone is falling over themselves laughing. Rose leans in to him while she's struggling to breathe from laughter.

Her hand just happens to land on his leg.

His hand, very quickly, lands on her hand and holds it. He turns to her and smiles. She smiles at him through her laughter-induced tears.

There are cameras. Cameras and witnesses. And all Rose can think of is kisses in dressing rooms and trailers and how she wants it to happen again.

Thankfully, Graeme distracts them both.

Scorpius gives her hand a quick squeeze before dropping it. Rose places her hands back in her lap. Their knees are still touching though. Neither of them makes attempts to change that. She's glad.

"Well I wasn't aware of any stories!" he says, twisting to show everyone the screen beside him, "But I know there's some interesting artwork out there…"

"Oh God," Scorpius breathes out and looks honestly terrified.

The first picture is of them about to kiss, but for some reason Scorpius' nose is double the length of his face, and Rose's lips look fish-like. The crowd laughs but Scorpius looks relaxed.

"Oh that's fine!" he says with a laugh, "That's quite nice actually. I think they've nailed my nose. I am, indeed, part swordfish."

Rose doesn't think he's ever been this chatty in front of a crowd. She likes it.

"Yes, well then there's ones like this," Graeme points to the screen and the picture changes from an innocent almost kiss, to a not at all innocent picture that Rose thinks is supposed to display them mid-coitus. The crowd starts laughing Scorpius almost swears on live tv, and Rose just repels at the image.

They're both naked, lying on what she assumes is supposed to be a bed, but the proportions are very much out of control. For example, Scorpius' arms look like he's Atlas, capable of holding up the world with the muscles he's got. His face 90% forehead, and his ass looks like it's been blown up to resemble a basketball. Rose's breasts looks like someone has literally stuck two balloons on her chest, and her waist is so thin that apparently she's had all her internal organs removed. The position is what really gets everyone laughing. Rose has one arm thrown around Scorpius' shoulders, but it's somehow managed to wrap completely around his head to have her hand cupping his face. One of her legs is straight up past her ear, with her knee bending over his shoulder, while the other is wrapped around his thigh. Scorpius' hands are apparently as big as dinner plates because they are able to completely encompass one of her laughably giant breasts. He's also only got one leg, the other completely forgotten. The look on Rose's face makes it look like she's in pain (which she can understand because there is no way her leg can go up past her ear like that), and Scorpius' expression looks like he's left the stove on.

Everyone's laughing, but Scorpius just looks kind of mortified.

"Well," Rose says as she tries to get her head around what she's looking at, "Well that's…I mean, I'm flattered there's someone out there that thinks I'm capable of lifting my leg that high…"

"That isn't physically possible," Scorpius states, "There is no way that could actually be done. Look at your arm! And then I'd have to…"

He turns to Rose, and is about to touch her when he realizes what he's doing.

"Do you mind, darling?" he asks before he makes another move. And considering it's all in good fun and there's enough room on the couch, Rose just kind of smiles and says, "Of course, my love."

There's a heat in his eyes at her term of endearment, but he pushes it away as he begins to assemble them. Rose files that look away with dressing room kisses in compartment of her brain tentatively named ' _Sexy Scorpius moments you don't think about in public'._

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how Rose and Scorpius ended up acting out a very not-sexy sex position on international television.

She's lying down on the couch with her leg in the air, trying to wrap her arm around Scorpius' head, while he stands on one leg (" _just imagine I don't have a second leg,"_ he tells the crowd to applause and laughter), and glares at her with his bottom lip jutted out. They almost fall off the couch, and Rose is pretty sure she feels the lining of her jumpsuit rip, and they're both laughing hysterically.

"Do we look sexy?" Rose asks from where she's sprawled on the red couch, "Because I definitely feel sexy!"

"Oh yes!" Scorpius agrees, "My bacon-dick is throbbing."

The producer has a meltdown, the crowd howls in laughter, and the interview never really recovers.

It's the most fun she's had in ages.

* * *

When she's at the hotel afterwards, alone with only the moon as her witness, Rose allows herself to remember the feel of his weight between her legs, of his breath on her face, his expensive aftershave enveloping her along with his arms as they lay on the couch for all to see. Then she allows herself to remember another time she lay on a couch with him above her, the feel of his hands on her bare skin, the feel of his lips on her neck, how it felt to run her nails down his back.

In the darkness an actress allows herself release to a memory she corrupts to end differently, the real and imagined melding together to match her dreams that leave her breathless. She sighs his name.

She is acting no more.

* * *

The press tour is over, but the memories linger on; the casual touches, the handholding, the laughter, the dancing. Lily sees these moments, notices that they last longer than they probably should. She takes it upon herself to send Rose a video someone has put together that juxtaposes interview footage of Scorpius on his own, to footage when he does an interview with Rose.

Rose would have to be blind not to see the difference.

In his solo interviews Scorpius is stoic and reserved, always staying on topic and very rarely taking an opportunity to laugh with the journalist appointed to him. He discusses complex themes of movies, gives one-word answers when he thinks a question is ridiculous, and is basically about as interesting as a board of wood.

When he's with Rose, however, things are different.

He's animated, talking with his hands and gesturing wildly throughout a hilarious story they tell together. He looks at her and smiles when she responds to a question, laughs when she tells a joke. They finish each others' sentences and he's clearly kinder to anyone asking a question. Rose smiles while she's watching it; it makes her heart swell.

Lily's text is direct:

Lily the Wonderful [12:34]: _Your happiness is infectious. Just like herpes._

* * *

"Someone call the crypt keeper – old Hollywood has risen from the dead! _Life in Colour_ is a modern-day masterpiece that reminds us of all the reasons we used to love going to the movies."

The Washington Post

"For anyone who thought that Scorpius Malfoy and Rose Granger-Weasley just so happened to keep striking liquid gold with their films, I think it's time to admit what we can no longer deny – these aren't just two kids with good booking agents, they're the real deal."

The Morning Herald

"Let's get one thing straight – I don't go to the theatre. I don't like singing. I don't like dancing. I don't like people conveying their emotions through songs. Never have I ever included a musical in my list of top films. I need you to understand that, so when I tell you that _Life in Colour_ is quite possibly my favourite film of the last 10 years, you understand the enormity of the statement."

Empire Magazine

"While everyone else conveys their woes with the help of lyrics and macabre music, Rose Granger-Weasley is left to rely on nothing but her facial expressions and body language. Of the entire cast, she perhaps gets her emotions across to the audience best of all, which just goes to show what a powerhouse she is."

Entertainment Weekly

"If you only see one film this year, let it be _Life in Colour_. It will make you laugh, cry, cheer, and boo. But most importantly, you'll leave the cinema feeling like you've learnt something without having it forced down your throat. And you simply can't ask for more from a movie than that."

\- The Daily Telegraph

* * *

His father visits him for a day at his Beverley Hills home that is obnoxiously large and reminds him of how empty his existence is. It's filled with furniture he never purchased, and dressed with artwork he's never seen before. It looks like it's out of a catalogue. It doesn't feel like home, just another stage.

These are not things he says to his father.

Instead he welcomes him in, shows him around just like the realtor did when he purchased the place.

They find themselves in what Scorpius mentally, mockingly, refers to as his Shrine to Himself, but outwardly calls 'The Trophy Room'. He looks sideways at his father as they stand in the doorway looking at his collection of accolades. Scorpius feels oddly embarrassed. He stutters when he tells Draco he can go and look at them all. His father steps around cautiously, politely, not touching anything where they sit in their special cabinets, his hands firmly grasping each other behind his back.

The room is filled with golden idols and silence, and Scorpius feels exposed and unprepared. He's desperate to fill the overwhelming silence, so Scorpius says, "I keep the Oscar in the bathroom. Don't really know why…"

He does. That was a temporary place for it, but since telling Rose that's where he keeps it he doesn't want to move it. Just in case she drops by. They'll joke and laugh. She'll call him a cad. He'll tell her she's beautiful. She'll kiss him and he'll ask her to stay, forever.

It's just another imagined conversation that will never happen.

Draco stops in front of a glass cabinet filled with nothing but what looks like a thin script covered in notes. It's under brighter lights – a prominent object in the room.

The Friendship Quiz.

"What's this?" his father asks, confused looking at the scribble-covered document before him. Scorpius smiles and approaches. He explains it as plainly as he can.

"It's how I became friends with Rose," he smiles at the memories, "It was tough to convince her I wasn't evil, so I made this quiz to learn things about each other. It's silly, I know. Incredibly childish. But it worked."

Scorpius swallows and tells himself not to get too emotional. The Malfoy men don't _do_ emotion. He tries to force down the lump of _stuff_ rising in his throat. He can't bear to look at his father until he's pulled himself together.

It's not until he hears a choked breath he even notices Draco crying.

Scorpius stares at his father as he gazes at the Friendship Quiz and wipes tears from his eyes on the back of his very expensive suit.

"Dad?" Scorpius asks before he remembers he doesn't really call him that. It's always been 'father', never just 'dad'. It gains his attention regardless. Draco takes another steadying breath and turns to face his son, a smile on his face. He says six words.

"I am so proud of you."

And just like that, Scorpius is speechless.

And also crying.

"Look at all you've accomplished," he gestures to the Friendship Quiz rather than all the awards, "You took our name and wore its burdens and still made it. You made them see you're more then your inheritance."

Draco can't look at him anymore, staring at the floor as he struggles to find the words. Scorpius isn't sure either of them are still breathing.

"I'm no longer ashamed of what I am," his father says, voice wavering but genuine, "I'm Scorpius Malfoy's father. And I am so honoured to be able to say that."

Before he can stop himself, Scorpius wraps his father in a tight hug and wills himself to stop crying. Draco wraps his arms around him and holds him tightly.

It's been a long 33 years to have a moment like this with his father. It was well worth the wait.

* * *

It's a week out from the Met Gala and Rose gets the strangest phone call she can ever recall receiving in her life.

"Rose?" the person on the other end of the line doesn't give her an opportunity to respond, "Maxwell, Scorpius' agent."

Rose knew of Maxwell. He'd started out as Kitty had, as a handler, but he and Scorpius had gotten close (and she feels like she heard a story once about Maxwell tracking him down when he'd gone AWOL after filming once? But she really can't remember details). And basically Scorpius had asked to have him onboard continuously, so he signed up to manage all of his contracts, rather than just the one with Ministry Studios. Rose would be lying if she said he didn't scare the pants off her.

"Hi Maxwell," she starts to say ' _why are you calling me'_ , but he beats her to it.

"I'm calling to ask if you're free for lunch."

She cannot think of any fathomable reason why Maxwell would want to take her to lunch. The whole thing is utterly bogus.

"Well actually I-"

"Excellent, there's a car out front. See you in thirty."

The line goes dead and Rose hears a car horn outside. She peaks out the window and sees a heavily-tinted car waiting for her.

 _What the hell was going on_?

She didn't like the idea of jumping just because Maxwell demanded she do it, but she liked the idea of getting into Maxwell's bad-books a whole lot less, so she headed downstairs to join him for lunch. Lincoln came with her, just like always, and that was the only reason she felt safe getting into the car.

Maxwell was an enigma, and of everyone she knew in this town, she'd say he was the most likely to have literally buried some bodies in his time. She did not want to be one of them.

The car pulls up out the front of some very swanky looking offices, and she's quickly ushered to the top floor. They step out into a large restaurant which is completely empty save for Maxwell who's blasting someone on the phone at a table in the center of the room.

" _Sign that contract without me reading it and you can find yourself another agent, cocksucker!"_

Rose did not know how Scorpius put up with him on a daily basis.

Rose approaches slowly as Maxwell gestures for her to take a seat. He shouts a few more expletives at the phone, threatens the person's genitals and first-born, and then hangs up with a (too-forceful) tap of his finger.

"I miss flip phones," he says, turning to look at her without a greeting at all, "When you slammed a flip phone shut you knew that motherfucker could tell you were mad. But with this touch screen bullshit you lose the emphasis. I miss fucking flip phones."

Rose has no idea how to respond to that so instead she just nods with a vague smile and thanks the waiter when they pour her a glass of wine she never ordered.

"You're probably wondering why I've asked you to see me," he starts, ripping a bread roll apart with his bare hands like he's in Mad Max or something equally as savage.

"It had crossed my mind," she supplies, eyeing the bread mournfully and choosing her words wisely.

"I want to talk to you about Scorpius," he says lathering on butter to the bread roll before he rips it apart with his teeth. Rose will never have to go on a safari – she's seeing an apex predator in it's habitat right here apparently.

"Ok," she shrugs, "I'm not sure how much help I'll be – I'm sure you're just as informed about Scorpius as I am. More so I'm betting."

"True," he says as he signals for the waiter to refill his glass, "But this specifically relates to you."

Rose's heart skips a beat. She can't help but feel like she's about to be eaten by a shark.

"Here's the thing Rose – Scorpius has an addiction."

She drops her glass. Maxwell side-eyes her and lets out an annoyed sigh. Right, like it was such an inconvenience for reacting with shock when he tells her, her best friend is an addict. Right, like this is all Rose's fault. She glares at him because she knows he's lying. He might know his client, but she knows her best friend. There's no way this is true.

"No," the word comes out with as much conviction as Rose has ever spoken with. Maxwell doesn't falter.

"Yes," he takes a swig of what she's sure is top shelf whiskey and continues, "You might not see it but-"

"I don't see it because it's not true," her words come out past gritted teeth, "He's seen what it's done to his dad and he refuses to go near any of that stuff. I've seen him turn people down."

"I'm not talking about drugs or hard liquor," the irony of him sculling his whiskey while he has this conversation is not lost on Rose, "This is something much worse."

Sex. Maybe he's addicted to sex. That's the only other thing she can think of.

(But then she remembers that time that neither of them talk about and how he stopped when they were interrupted. Surely if you're addicted you can't turn it off that quickly. Surely not.)

Maxwell lets the silence hang over them, apparently a fan of the dramatics (you kind of have to be to be in this town in the first place).

"Well?" Rose has lost all of her very little patience. Maxwell isn't scary anymore – he's just a goddam liar. And she has absolutely no time for those.

"It's you, Rose," he looks her right in the eye and scowls at her, "He's addicted to you."

Her immediate response is to scoff at him. She's not falling for this.

"That doesn't make any sense."

"It makes perfect fucking sense," there's a look in his eyes that makes him look insane, but Rose isn't scared. She's just angry, "You're something he shouldn't want but has convinced himself he can't live without. Even when he says he's quitting, he keeps coming back to you. You're his fucking cocaine."

Maxwell scowls at her like she's the root of all evil. Rose scowls back with the exact same expression.

"You have no idea what you're talking about," Rose feels her anger growing. It's not the dry, feverish anger, but the ugly, wet, all-encompassing anger that is usually accompanied by crying. It aches in her bones and boils up in her throat and she doesn't want to unleash it in front of Maxwell, but she's never been much good at controlling it.

"I know _exactly_ what I'm talking about because this is my fucking job on the line here, and if there's one thing I know how to do, it's this fucking job."

"I don't understand how my relationship with Scorpius has anything to do with your job."

"Because he is my _client_ and it is my business to keep them safe. And you are making that next to impossible."

Rose scoffs at him, "Safe? I'm not a risk-"

"YOU ARE HIS COCAINE," Maxwell is yelling and the staff have conveniently made themselves scarce. All Rose can think is that it means there'll be no witnesses if he murders her, "You are tearing his life apart because he's so wrapped up in you that he can't see that he's fucking destroying himself in the lame belief that he might have a shot with you."

Maxwell curses softly to himself and seems to deflate a bit. Rose feels like she's seeing a side to him not many people do. He's not so much angry anymore, just incredibly concerned.

"Let's get this straight – I don't think you're a bad person, Weasley," he says it with all the authenticity of a billion dollar banknote, "I just think you're fucking stupid."

Yeah, because that's better.

"You both are," he's shaking his head as he looks at the table, "A pair of fucking idiots that are a pain in my ass."

He looks back at her, his gentle façade shifting back to the shark he is at heart. Rose feels her shackles rising. But Maxwell's voice is softer when he speaks; still commanding, but not as angry anymore. Rose welcomes the change.

"You've spent the better part of ten years pretending to love each other," his words are confident and bade no argument, "Sometimes you forget you're pretending. But Scorpius? He stopped pretending a long time ago."

Rose feels her bottom lip begin to quiver. She says nothing. She doesn't breathe. She feels like vomiting. Maxwell speaks with barely any inflection – he is stating facts. There is no room for discussion.

"His love for you is unhealthy. Every time you look at him, every time you play pretend, every time you kiss him, even if you are on set, you give him a momentary high. But then he comes crashing down – hard – whenever you walk away. It used to be little. He used to recover pretty quick, but now? Now he's in too deep. He needs more and more of you to get that high, to confuse himself into thinking you love him, before you leave him again. And it's tearing him apart."

Rose is speechless. Maxwell thinks Scorpius is in love with her. And if anyone were to know, it would be him. She should be happy, because she's pretty sure she loves him too, is pretty sure she basically always has, but she's not. Instead her heart aches. There's something in the way Maxwell talks, like its some great tragedy, like her affections are poison, that gives her pause.

She doesn't want to hurt him. You don't hurt the people you love.

But, as far as Maxwell is concerned, she's incapable of anything else.

"I will defend my clients, Rose," Maxwell's stare doesn't break for a second and Rose feels herself starting to cry, "But I will fight for my friends. Scorpius is my friend, and if he can't save himself from you, I'll do it for him."

The man stands from his seat and finishes the last of his freshly topped-up drink.

"You've got two options," he's more conversational again, but Rose is muted by fear, "You either commit to him forever and chase the Happily Ever After, or you walk away. You can't stay in this limbo anymore. You're going to destroy him if you don't make a choice. And I will not let you destroy my friend."

Rose stays in silence as she listens to his retreating footsteps. Lincoln comes over to her, has to tap her shoulders a few times to get her attention. She doesn't know what else to do, so she stands and hugs her bodyguard close as she cries. He pats her back and tells her it will be all right.

She's not sure it will be.

* * *

Rose barely speaks to him at the Met Gala. He doesn't understand what he's done wrong.

* * *

When she's back in her bed, alone with no one but the moon again, she pulls out her phone and re-watches the clips Lily sent her.

She watches his smile again.

She listens to how their laughter sounds when it's mixed together.

She feels every time he wraps an arm around her in that half-hug he's so fond of.

There's a light in his eyes when she's with him, and for the first time, she notices it's the same that's in her eyes when he's holding her hand. She sees how his smile is brighter with her, and for the first time how her's is brighter when it's facing him.

Maybe she's not the worst thing that could ever happen to him. Maybe the trick to curing his addiction is to never let there be a comedown. Maybe if she stops running, she'll stop hurting him.

Or maybe that will just make it worse when she inevitably does.

* * *

They announce the Academy Award nominations. _Life in Colour_ is up for 11, including Best Actress in a Leading Role. Rose tries not to freak out. She freaks out a lot.

"Congratulations," her mother says at the other end of the phone, "I'm very proud of you."

"But mum," Rose is whispering in the overwhelming emptiness of her hotel room, "What if I win?"

"Then we will continue to love you just as much as we would if you don't."

Yeah, her family's pretty great.

* * *

Awards season starts in approximately 6 weeks and Rose honestly cannot deal with it right now. Dress fittings, social media storms, and fending off paparazzi that keep asking her if she's got her acceptance speech prepared. It's all a little too much to take. And when she says 'a little', what Rose really means is that she's not slept in days and she thinks her hair might actually be falling out.

Over the past few years, whenever she's been stressed about things like this, she's found a kindred spirit in Scorpius. She can call and talk to him for hours and everything that's weighing her down just kind of melts away. Rose does not do that now for two reasons – firstly, she knows he's probably going through exactly the same thing; and secondly, since meeting with Maxwell she's not sure if she's allowed to. She and Scorpius had been chatting on and off since The Horrible Lunch of Awfulness, but nothing of any real importance. And Rose has a feeling in her bones, a sinking feeling in her stomach, that says they're not going to be able to continue to have conversations of no consequence for much longer. Everything they say now has ramifications, creates ripples, generates feelings, and those are not things to be dealt with lightly. With everything else going on, Rose can't risk saying something that will destroy her best friend.

(Never mind that saying nothing is kind of destroying her)

So Rose sends Lily a message instead.

Alegra [13:23] _: I hate awards season in LA. This is literally the worst._

Lily the Wonderful [13:30] _: Then leave LA. Simple._

Alegra [13:32] _: Where would I go? Mum and Dad are in Brussels and you're in Italy._

Lily the Wonderful [13:36] _: I'll speak to Albus._

Alegra [13:37] _: I am not bunking with Albus. His flat-mate is obnoxious, and I need somewhere I can walk around without pants on and not be judged._

Lily the Wonderful [13:45] _: You have more money than God. Get a hotel._

Alegra [13:48] _: I don't want to stay in another hotel. I've been doing that for months now. Forget it – I just needed to whine._

Lily the Wonderful [13:52] _: Leave it to me. I'll sort something out._

Alegra [13:53] _: You don't need to do that._

Lily the Wonderful [13:58] _: Yes I do. You're en emotional wreck right now. Have a little faith, darling, Lily the Wonderful will save you. Pack a bag. I'm pretty sure you'll be out of the states in the next 24 hours._

Alegra [14:02] _: And where will I be going?_

Lily the Wonderful [14:04] _: Home._

Alegra [14:07] _: I don't want to be home by myself. It defeats the purpose of being home._

Lily the Wonderful [14:10] _: Not 'your' home. But someone's home. Don't worry. I got this._

Rose was quietly confident that Lily did not, in fact, got this. She just meant to unload a little, she didn't thin it would lead to an impromptu trip out of the US.

Forty minutes later and she gets a phone call from Perfect Hair Boy himself.

"Hey," he says casually, "I hear you need a place to crash for a while?"

"What?" Rose cannot believe that Lily called him of all people. He was the exact person she was trying to _not_ talk to, "No…I…I was just telling Lily that LA is crazy and I hate being here. I didn't mean for her to call you."

"She didn't," he supplies.

"Then who did?"

"Albus."

Those Potter children both need to be kicked in the shins and/or their genitals. Rose clenches her fist.

"I don't need somewhere to crash," she sighs and sits down at her kitchen bench, "I just wanted to get out of LA for a while."

"I'm in England at the moment, at my place out of town," when Scorpius says 'out of town' what he means is 'at my fucking stately manor'. She's seen photos. It was an estate that he'd bought and had renovated, and it was picturesque, "You can stay here a while; lay low until you absolutely _have_ to be back in LA."

Being alone in the countryside with Scorpius Malfoy. What could possibly go wrong?

Everything. Absolutely everything could, and probably would, go wrong.

"I don't want to inconvenience you, Scorpius," she says it gently, tries to find a way to say 'fuck no' without hurting his feelings.

"You wouldn't be," he sounds like he's trying to convince himself as much as he's trying to convince her, "The place is big, we wouldn't even have to see each other if we didn't want to."

"…So you don't want to see me?" Rose does her best not to feel hurt.

"No!" he's quick to amend his statement, "No, it's not that. I just thought you might not want to see me."

Shit. How did he figure that out? Maybe the fact that she avoided him like he was the goddam plague at the Met didn't help. But that was all Maxwell's doing, not Rose's. Oh God, when did her life become just like one of her movies?

"Why would I not want to see you?" she knows why, she's just testing whether he knows.

"I don't know," she hears him struggling for words, "You've been pretty distant lately. I thought I might have upset you? Or you've just wanted some time alone with the awards season and all…"

He's giving her an out. He is giving her a very useful excuse – _yes, the awards season is awful and I do want some alone time, so thanks but no thanks_ – and she could use it and run. She's been silent for too long so he attempts to fill it.

"I just…" he stutters, and Rose is reminded that underneath it all – all his perfect coifs and stunning smiles – he's human too, "I just thought that you reached out and offered me refuge at your family's place when I was having a hard time all those years ago – I thought I could finally repay the favour. That said, I hear both Bucharest and Budapest are quite lovely this time of year."

Rose laughs and feels her eyes welling up. He's doing exactly what she did years ago, and she loves him all the more for it. Whether or not they ever move through this limbo they find themselves in, there is always one ever-present, unchangeable fact – he's on her side. And she needs to be with people who are on her side right now.

"I've heard that too," she smiles to herself, "But I think I'm missing England most of all."

"Then come to England – I'll have someone waiting to pick you up at the airport."

Rose hangs up the phone with a smile. She shoots Kitty a quick message with an update of where she's going and the fact that she'll need a plane. Kitty fires back almost immediately that a car will be around to pick her up in 40 minutes.

Rose is jittery with anticipation.

* * *

It's not until the call has been disconnected that Scorpius realizes what he's done. Rose Weasley will be here, in his house, as his guest.

For an undisclosed amount of time.

With no one else.

Just the two of them.

Alone.

This could either be the most wonderful or most horrid idea he's ever had. Either way, he's going to murder Albus bloody Potter for convincing him to do it.

* * *

Albus the Magnificent [16:57]: _Superboy has agreed. Did you get The Stubborn One on board?_

Lily the Wonderful [16:59}: _Literally or figuratively?_

Albus the Magnificant [17:03]: _Both._

Lily the Wonderful [17:06]: _Affirmative. She'll be touching down early tomorrow._

Albus the Wonderful [17:08]: _There's a joke in there about 'touching' and 'down' but I'll not go near it_

Lily the Wonderful [17:11]: _Gross, Albus._

Albus the Magnificent [17:13]: _Oh excuse me for hoping that they both finally get their shit together and have crazy pent-up ten-years-in-the-making sex and get married like they should have done 10 fucking years ago. I APOLOGISE IF MY HOPES AND DREAMS OFFEND YOU LILY_

Lily the Wonderful [17:17]: _Are you ok Albus?_

Albus the Magnificent [17:23]: _No I am not. I have been too invested in this for too fucking long. It's damaging my mental health. They're dickheads, the pair of them._

Lily the Wonderful [17:28]: _Yes, but they're our dickheads. We have to support them in their journey to love._

Albus the Magnificent [17:34]: _They completed their journey to love 6 fucking years ago, they're just too chicken shit to do anything about it. If this doesn't work I'm kidnaping them and forcing them to marry. They have forced my hand._

Lily the Wonderful [17:36]: _If this fails I'll supply the cable-ties._

* * *

Rose is driven to Scorpius' estate – named ' _Neptune Valley'_ , after 'space shit' – very late in the afternoon, and it is as picturesque as the photos she had as a reference depict. With the January snow falling across the acres of woodland, the 18th century manor stands proudly like something straight out of a fairytale. Suddenly the slippers and pj pants Rose had packed seemed dreadfully inappropriate.

She's dropped right at the door and met by Scorpius who is, thankfully, dressed in pj pants and a jumper. She's glad she'll match the dress code. He welcomes her inside, leaving the chauffer to bring in her bags. He's nervous – she can tell by the way he plays with his hands and runs his hands through his hair – and it puts her at ease a bit because she's nervous too.

He gives her a tour, proudly shows off different rooms with stunning views. Rose notices that he actually has photos of his family and friends throughout this place. It feels more like his home than any of his other properties that she's been to do. Rose smiles when she spies a photo of Albus on the mantle in the Western Parlour – she can't tell when it's been taken, but Albus is, predictably, looking like the world's most stylish hobo and Scorpius looks like he's straight out of a Tom Ford catalogue. It's an interesting friendship to say the least.

(She also sees a photo of her and Scorpius from the set of the second _Kingdom_ film, the pair of them smiling in their dressing gowns. She can't remember it being taken, but she'd be lying if she said she didn't love it. They both look so young – undoubtedly because they were – and genuinely happy. She didn't see that look on her face that whole time she was with Brian. She can't seem to shake it when she's with Scorpius).

Eventually he leads her to the guest bedroom that she'll be staying in, just a few doors down from his own Master Bedroom. It's a beautiful room, restored and dressed beautifully. Her bags are already inside, and she likes that it doesn't feel like a hotel room. This room has life, spirit, character; it has little facets that are so _Scorpius_ that it makes it feel like home. She tries not to analyse that feeling too much.

"You have your own bathroom," Scorpius brings her back to the present as he gestures to a door on the left hand side of the room. It is oddly reminiscent of when she showed him around his room at her parent's place all those years ago.

"Good!" she smiles at him sideways, "That way you won't be able to 'accidentally' come in and cop an eyeful."

"Rest assured Rose," he smiles down at her, all casual and easy and so damn beautiful she really struggles to look at him, "If I ever had the great honour of seeing you naked, it would be with your explicit consent."

Scorpius continues to point out things about the room, indicating where she can hang her clothes. Rose isn't paying attention though; she's too focused on his last comment.

" _If I ever had the great honour of seeing you naked…"_

 _If._

He has. He has absolutely, without a doubt, seen her naked. He's touched her naked. He's kissed her naked. He's lain on top of her and promised to savour her _naked_.

So what the fuck was with that 'if'?

Had he forgotten? Was it such a terrible experience that he'd forced it from his memory? Was that his way of making her know that nothing was going to happen – by indicating he wished that their naked-kiss thing never happened?

"Rose?" she's broken from her internal monologue by Scorpius pulling her back to the moment, "Rose, are you ok?"

"Yeah," she plasters on a fake smile that she knows he sees through, "I think I just might need a nap after the flight."

She watches while he debates with himself on whether he's going to call her on her blatant lie. Thankfully, he chooses not to.

"I'll leave you to it then," he smiles that warm smile and something in her chest flutters. She wants to vomit.

He leaves, and Rose lies down to wills herself to sleep. She'll ask him about it later, when the timing's right, and she'll find out why he said what he did.

And if that results in her buying a ticket back to the US, then so be it.

* * *

He walks down the corridor – _his corridor_ – and he smells her perfume. His house smells of Rose Granger-Weasley.

It's all he's ever wanted.

* * *

Rose, somehow, manages to actually sleep through most of the afternoon. She comes downstairs, well-rested but still a bit nervous, to find the lounge room filled with a very familiar tune. Rose's head starts being filled with their dance teacher's voice commanding ' _one, two, three, four, five six, seven, and spin!'._

Apparently, even when in the comfort of his own home, Scorpius Malfoy enjoys listening to the _Life in Colour_ soundtrack. She descends a few more stairs and finds him humming (perfectly in tune, the unfairly talented a-hole) and swaying as he peruses the books on one of the wall-spanning dark oak bookshelves adorning his lounge room. She stops and watches him for a moment (tells herself its completely _not_ creepy to do that). He's dressed in loose grey pajama pants with a long sleeve white Henley, his bare feet moving silently as he repeats the dance moves they haven't done in over a year. With his hair slightly longer than usual and pushed back from his face, an ease through his shoulders and a calmness she's only seen in him when he's singing, Rose isn't sure she's ever seen him look so beautiful.

And that's no small feat considering she'd seen him naked.

Which, coincidentally, she needed to talk to him about. Because _apparently_ he didn't remember. And to that she planned to, very delicately, call bullshit. Right after he's stopped looking so flawless.

She steps on a creaky stair and draws his attention. His humming and swaying stops and Rose has to bite her tongue from demanding he continue. He looks a bit sheepish, like he's been caught-out doing something he shouldn't. Rose smiles at him and tries to think of something witty and intriguing to say. Instead she only manages to state the obvious.

"Our waltz," she says as she holds eye contact with him. Scorpius doesn't say anything, just stands and analyses her for a few moments. He picks up a remote that was resting on one of the shelves and presses a button – the song starts again. He walks into the centre of his incredibly spacious living room and holds his hand out to her, beckoning her to join him.

He's asking her to dance. Scorpius Malfoy is asking her to dance and they're not on set and there's no cameras and it's just them. Rose did not think there would be dancing when she agreed to stay.

Hoping her feet don't fail her, she meets him in the center of the room and places her hand a few millimeters away from his, just like they did in the film. Rose flinches when Scorpius wraps his fingers around hers. She looks up at him, startled, to find him smiling.

"We're not filming," his tone is warm and Rose feels a lot like swooning, "We can break the rules a bit."

And with that, Scorpius wraps his hand around her waist, places it at the base of her back and pulls her into him as he takes the first step. Rose holds onto him, tries not to screw up as he leads her around the room. There's an easiness with standing so close, with having the other as an anchor, that they didn't have when they filmed. Rose still screws up – quite a lot – but it just ends with laughter. She steps on his toes, moves forwards instead of back, spins under his arm in the wrong direction. By the end they're laughing, holding each other close, and reconciling that two possibly broken toes really isn't that bad. The song changes, but instead of moving apart, they continue to sway and tip-toe around the room. It's relaxing and makes Rose feel far-too in love for her own good.

Maybe this is it, she thinks as she notes how relaxed they both are, maybe this is the time to ask him what he meant earlier.

"I have to ask you something," she starts, attempting to keep her tone light, "About something you said earlier."

His only response is to hum before he spins her out and then back in. It throws her off a little and she has to catch herself on his shoulders so she doesn't smack into his chest. She laughs it off and refocuses.

"You said ' _if I had the great honour of seeing you naked…_ " she lets the sentence hang in the air, hoping he'll just jump in and start explaining himself because she honestly doesn't even know what she's really asking him. Like the stubborn arse he is, he doesn't comply.

"What's your question?" he asks instead, their movements growing slower and his tone is speculative. Rose swallows and continues, because if she keeps it in and doesn't ask now then she never will, and they've been playing this game too long. She wants to end it.

"You made it sound like you never have," she adds a shrug to make it seem all very casual. Which is definitely isn't.

As soon as she's speaks, the bubble bursts. Yeah, this probably wasn't the perfect moment she was waiting for. Rose's patience has never been her strong suite.

His whole body tenses and he gives her a closed off expression. She keeps talking to try and get out of the puddle of awkward she's inexplicably landed in, their movements less polished now that he's about as flexible as a brick wall.

"Don't you remember?"

Scorpius freezes and steps away from her, dropping her hand and removing her from his grasp. Rose feels colder, inside and out.

"I didn't think I was allowed to remember," he meets her eyes and there's bite to his tone that she doesn't understand. She tries to lighten the mood, and his façade, by smiling.

"Who said you weren't allowed to?" she asks lightly.

His response is cold, "I always thought it was implied."

"Why?"

"Because you spent the following five days avoiding me and we never mentioned it again. I thought that was a pretty good indicator that you wanted it forgotten."

Rose is struck by how blunt he's being. His joyless smile puts her on edge. He almost sounds angry. She hasn't seem him angry in a really long time. She sinks in on herself, posture curling as she plays with the sleeves of her jumper.

"I never said that."

His response comes back at a rapid-fire pace.

"No, you didn't say anything."

They stand in a tense silence, the upbeat music from _Life in Colour_ a horrible mismatch to the atmosphere so thick with tension its a little hard to breathe. Rose would be angry if he wasn't right. She really hates it when he's right, especially when it's about her screwing something up.

"I wanted to," she hears herself whisper, "I just didn't know what to say."

He lets out an aggravated sigh, "I don't even know why we're talking about this. It was years ago – what's bringing it up now going to change?"

"Right," she can't look at him, instead stares out the window over his shoulder and tries to stop the quivering in her bottom lip, "You're right. There probably isn't much point talking about it now. I mean, we were practically kids then."

"Exactly," he's not making eye contact either, instead he stares at the floor blankly. He's lost a bit of his fight, now he's starting to sound defeated, "We were stupid; we didn't comprehend the shit storm we'd be getting ourselves into by doing that."

"Just imagine if we'd dated," Rose tries to joke, but she can hear the sadness in her tone, "The media would have ripped us apart."

"It would have only gotten worse when we broke up," he supplies, voice lacking any emotion. Rose speaks before she can stop herself, focusing on his face again.

"Who says we'd break up?" she asks, hurt and genuine. His gaze shifts to hers and they just stand there in his living room staring at each other with what feels like worlds between them. She can see he's debating with himself, sees his internal struggle to find words. She imagines he sees the same thing in her face.

"We're not who we were, Rose," his voice is low and he sounds like he's hurting. She just wants to hold him until they're both mended, "You've been engaged –"

"And you've dated countless beautiful women," she fires back, refusing to be the one to blame for this limbo they're in. She mightn't have made a move but neither did he. They're just as guilty as each other.

"Exactly," as he speaks she watches, helpless, as the walls she worked so hard to break down are built up again, blocking her off from his world, "We're not those kids anymore. Talking about something that happened a thousand years ago isn't going to change a damn thing now. So what's the point?"

* * *

He doesn't want to talk about this. He doesn't want to remember the embarrassment or the heartache. He wants to end this conversation as soon as possible so they can go back to being whatever the hell they are.

He doesn't care if they _could have_ made something out of it. He doesn't care that they _could have_ followed their instincts and made it more than just some memory they both pretend not to think about. He doesn't care if their almost-something could have become _everything_. The point is that they can't now. So there's no point discussing it. They should just put this conversation to rest and never mention it again.

Rose, as always, refuses to do as he wishes.

* * *

"It never would have gone anywhere," she says with a half-laugh that sounds sad even to her own ears, "After all, I never would have signed one of your blasted contracts."

He shakes his head, stares at the ground, "I wouldn't have asked you to."

"Why?" she attempts to laugh but it sounds more like a half-hearted cough, "Because I'm not a model?"

"Because I was never in love with any of them. But you," his voice breaks so he clears his throat before continuing in a whisper, "It would have been different with you."

The air is heavy and she can't breathe so she just stares at him with a stupid look on her face for several moments longer than strictly appropriate.

"You were in love with me?" her voice is tiny, but he hears her.

"I was," Scorpius looks at her and smiles but it doesn't reach his eyes, "How foolish of me."

"Right," she agrees weakly, "Foolish."

There's a heavy silence and Rose doesn't know what to do with this information. He loved her. _He fucking loved her. How was she supposed to respond to that?!_

Probably with a little something more than just 'yep, that was foolish'.

She'd be an idiot to not have seen the signs – not to notice all the times he sighed her name or took care of her or looked at her and made her feel like the world. To not see how he was different, brighter, around her. Rose noticed all of that. But she's also very good at lying to herself and pretending it meant something different to what it clearly indicated.

Hearing him confirm it out loud – that _he_ _loved her_ – means she can't continue lying to herself. So now she is faced with the overwhelming responsibility of deciding what she does with the information that Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy was in love with her all those years ago when she started falling for him.

She had his heart, and she's fairly sure she broke it. She has no idea what she's supposed to do with the left over pieces now.

* * *

He can't breathe without smelling her perfume. He can't look anywhere without seeing her face. He hears her breathing, feels her presence overwhelming the room.

He can't handle this. He needs to get out.

Before he breaks right in front of her.

* * *

Rose's internal battle with herself is broken when Scorpius coughs and makes some kind of vague gesture in the direction of the kitchen.

"Dinner isn't quite ready yet," he says without looking at her, "It'll be at least another 30 minutes. You should probably go and lie down for a bit longer. I'll let you know when it's done."

Scorpius walks out of the room without giving her an opportunity to protest. He's dismissed her; doesn't want to look at her anymore. Rose feels her hands shaking. She does what he says, walks back up the stairs to her guest room and tries to keep her breathing controlled.

* * *

His hands are shaking and he can't breathe and he just wants the floor to swallow him whole.

She's seen his ugliness now – seen his wretched, selfish little heart. He never should have told her the truth. He's ruined everything.

He needs a way to wipe what just happened from his mind.

He only knows one way to do that – the same way his father did.

* * *

Rose was halfway down the corridor to her bedroom when she realizes exactly what she's doing. She was walking away from Scorpius and all the possibilities that she'd always teased herself with for years. She's walking away like she did at the trailer. Like she did after Maguire's talk-show. Like she always did. She's running.

Rose never liked running. And she's quite sure she's had enough of it.

Maxwell's words of warning come ringing in her ears:

 _You either commit to him forever and chase the Happily Ever After, or you walk away. You can't stay in this limbo forever. You're going to destroy him if you don't make a choice._

She was not going to be the one to destroy Scorpius Malfoy. And she couldn't walk away from him completely. Which only left one option:

 _Chase the happily ever after_.

Maybe she can run this one last time. Because this time it doesn't feel like fleeing – this time it's chasing. And that makes all the difference.

* * *

He hears the heavy footsteps on the staircase, and it's either very convenient or inconvenient timing as he was just contemplating having a drink which he kind of promised himself he'd never do.

The footsteps get louder and faster.

Inconvenient, he decides, it's all very inconvenient.

Just as he's turning to face the entry way, in runs Rose Weasley, her face set in unwavering determination and her shoulders strong. She slides to a stop in her bed socks and just awkwardly stands in the doorway, trying to gather her breath. Rose Weasley is standing four feet away from him in his own house and all he can think is every time he's pictured this in his mind she's never scowling. She's scowling now.

He's not sure he's ready for a fight. He's fought too hard for too long. He's ready to give up. Whatever she's armed with he'll let her tear him apart. He can't keep up his defenses anymore.

* * *

She does her absolute best not to be distracted by how nice his shoulders look in that shirt in this light (because seriously, they look _nice_ ). And to be honest, yeah, she gets a bit distracted for a fraction of a second, but then she's all business and back to what matters – chasing the happily ever after.

"Do you still?" she asks quickly before she can think of a more eloquent way to ask what she wants to know.

Which is unfortunate because that's not even a sentence. And by the look he gives her, Scorpius absolutely does not understand what she's asking.

"Do I still what?"

"Love me," she forces it out before she remembers she's scared.

He doesn't answer, so she clarifies (as if that's the reason he's not answering), "Do you still love me?"

* * *

Scorpius can't find the words. Well that's not entirely true. He can find the words, or rather _word_ perfectly easily – _yes._ But he can't tell her that. Telling her that will change everything. And their day had been so nice (besides the awkward ending) and he wants it to happen more often. So he can't risk telling her.

* * *

"Jesus, that was years ago, Rose," he sighs and rests against the edge of the counter, his whole body giving off an air of defeat she's never seen before. It's disheartening to witness. But she persists.

"I know," her eye contact is unwavering, and like a deer in headlights, he can do nothing but look back, "I'm asking if right here, right now, _today_ , do you love me?"

"I don't see how that's relevant to anything." He gives her nothing but clipped tones and an expressionless face.

She ran to him. She's not leaving without having her question answered.

"It's relevant to everything!" she implores, looking at him like he'd grown an additional, puss-oozing appendage.

* * *

He's too tired to deal with this. Not tired because it's a stressful time of year. Not tired because he hasn't been sleeping. He's tired in his bones. Exhausted right to his core. He simply does not have the strength to deal with this – he does not have the strength to try and convince her he feels nothing. So he wants her to leave before he says something they'll both regret.

* * *

Scorpius let out a heavy sigh, "What do you expect me to say, Rose?"

"Yes or no – its very simple!" she hears herself sounding erratic but really, she would be much more rational if he just _answered the goddam question._

And then he kind of…explodes.

"Nothing is simple with you, Rosie!" Scorpius pushes away from the counter and throws his arms in the air, "Nothing ever has been, and nothing ever will be _simple_. It will always be complicated, and twisted, and, and difficult."

"How is this difficult?" she refuses to be intimidated by his outburst so she fires back with her own, takes a few strong steps into the kitchen, "It is a yes or no question."

"No it's not!" he spins to face her and he looks hurt and angry and more human than she can ever remember him looking. It's breathtaking in a terrifying kind of way, "Because you're not asking if I love you, you're asking if I will love you forever. Which I will. And you're asking if things have to change. And they do, because I can't let you know that I love you and then carry on like it means nothing. So what you're really asking me is if you have to walk away, because you can't be best friends with someone who is madly in love with you, and has been for ten years, because it's too complicated and twisted and difficult. And I can't answer that because I can't lose you."

He's struggling to breathe and his voice breaks.

"I can't lose you over something as foolish as loving you, Rosie," his voice breaks again. He doesn't even try to convince himself it's because he's been rehearsing his lines for days on end, "You're my best friend."

* * *

As he stares at the ground he realizes she's finally done it – Rose Weasley has forced him to admit defeat right in front of her, to peel back all of his defenses, and of his layers, all his walls he built to protect himself from this pain. From this anguish. She has finally torn it all apart and now he lies in the wreckage, bleeding and broken.

He's not sure if she feels like she's won, but he definitely feels like he lost. He's almost tempted to congratulate her – to congratulate her on finally winning this game of cat and mouse they've been playing for over ten years now.

But he can't even look at her – he doesn't trust his ability to speak without saying something else incredibly stupid.

He's got tears in his eyes and he stays staring at the ground, wishing it would swallow it up. He hears gentle footsteps and he knows she's left. She's walked away just like he knew she would.

His heart stops when he sees her feet appear in his line of sight. He holds his breath when he feels her hand cup his face. She lifts her hand until he's looking her in the eye again.

Well look at that, he's made her cry. Again.

Her voice is tiny when she finally speaks.

" _Who says you'd lose me?"_

* * *

She knows he's searching her face for a reason to doubt her but she holds strong. She's not running – she's chasing. Rose is going to prove to him – finally – that she's in this. That she loves him, for real.

 _This isn't acting._

"Ask me," she commands. He looks like he has no idea what she's talking about.

"What?" he mumbles, barely louder than a whisper. It makes her smile.

"Ask me if I love you."

He holds his breath, looks for teasing in her eyes. He can't find any.

"Do you love me?" he whispers. In fact some might have even called his tone 'pleading'.

She beams at him, "Yes." Then she raises an eyebrow, "See? Simple."

Scorpius doesn't know what to do next. Lucky Rose is there because she kisses him and yep, he's pretty sure that is exactly the right thing to do in this situation.

He wraps his arms around her waist to lift her off the ground. She lets her feet dangle and she throws her arms around his neck. It's actually very hard to kiss him when she's smiling so much. He spins them around and Rose breaks off the kiss to laugh at him and her and _them_ – because that's what they are now. They're a them.

"I love you," she says it one more time, just because she finally can and now that she's said it once she wants to repeat it over and over.

"I love you too," he's smiling wider than she's ever seen and it is definitely the most beautiful he's ever looked, "Oh God I love you. I never thought I'd ever be able to tell you. I've been holding it in for so long."

Rose feels a bit guilty, and apologises for not getting her shit together sooner.

"That's ok," he leans in with a smirk that is definitely devious, "You can make it up to me."

"I've got ten years to repent for," she curls her fingers in the hair at the base of his skull as her lips brush against his, "That's gunna take a while."

"How convenient," he rests his forehead against hers and looks her in the eye, "I've got all the time in the world."

Rose closes her eyes and kisses him again, takes in the way his lips feel when they're not holding back. Delights in how he sighs when she runs her hands through his hair. Bathes in the overwhelming feeling of joy and elation that comes with being embraced by the one you love, knowing they love you too.

 _This is it,_ she thinks, _This is the real deal. No more acting._

* * *

 _So everyone might need to go see their dentist, because that was nothing but fluff and sugar. I hope you enjoyed it._

 _I am going to do an epilogue because there's one scene in particular that didn't really fit this section that I really want to include. It'll wrap things up a bit more, and give a quick insight into what their relationship looks like when they're actually in one. (Also, if you would like to see more smut, because I honestly could go either way, just let me know. If it's requested I'll include a bit. If not I'll leave it out.)_

 _I hope you've enjoyed the bulk of the story so far. The epilogue will be coming sooner rather than later._

 _And to all the beautiful souls who wished me well with my health – THANK YOU. Your well wishes are appreciated. I love you all._

 _Shine on,_

 _Grae xo_


	6. Epilogue

_A/N: As promised, here's the epilogue which opens with a heavy dose of smut (I'm talking like 6 pages. It got a bit out of hand). If that's not your cup of tea – understandable, its my most graphic so far – then feel free to skip ahead until Dusty actually enters the scene. Thank you all for coming on this journey with me and my faves. I hope you've enjoyed it._

 _All my love and a happy and safe new year, Grae._

 _Disclaimer: these characters are not mine. I just like babysitting them for a while._

* * *

 **Epilogue: How Everyone Found Out**

" _I see nothing worse than to sail this universe without you."_

 _We Are Stars - The Pierces._

* * *

 **Dusty**

Dusty is the first to find out and it is by complete (horrifying) accident.

It was the day after Rose arrived and her and Scorpius shared in their big revelation. She had always figured that if they ever got over themselves and finally got together then they'd just kind of fall onto the nearest surface and finally cross the last boundary. Which was, obviously, engaging in sexy times.

And they almost did. Except that Rose was _really_ tired, and as soon as her head hit the pillow she was basically unconscious.

"m'sorry," she mumbled into his chest where she was resting her head, eyes closed and breathing slowing, "I promise I want to…to do The Sex…."

Scorpius chuckled and ran his fingers through her hair (or, more appropriately, patted her head because Rose's hair was a constant bundle of knots).

"That's alright," he murmured with a smile, "We've got all the time in the world."

The next thing she knew, Rose was waking up to the sound of the shower running and warm space beside her. She was a bit disappointed to not still be wrapped up in Scorpius' arms like she had been all night. For a very small, ridiculous moment, she thinks he might be preparing to leave, to abandon her here in bed without them ever really moving forward.

Then she hears him singing in the shower and reminds herself that it's all ok.

Rose is not a morning person. Not ever. But if mornings are going to start including a naked, wet Scorpius Malfoy singing in the shower than she may just change her mind.

Rose is so focused on how weird it is that she can hear him in the shower while she sits in his bed, that she doesn't realize when the water stops, and is taken by surprise when he opens the door and walks out in nothing but a towel. Rose stares at him for what is absolutely an impolite amount of time. His response is simply to quirk an eyebrow and smile like he knows what she's imagining (which he probably does. Rose has never been particularly skilled at being subtle).

"Good morning, Rosie," he runs a towel through his hair to dry it off. Rose finds the action much more attractive then is probably logical, "Sleep well?"

Right, like he doesn't know she was basically comatose the entire night. Probably just his way of subtly bragging that she slept so well in his bed. Which she would allow because her plan was kind of to do it as much as possible. He moves towards a stunning set of antique drawers and starts rifling through them.

"Yes I did, thank you," she aims for indifference and to appear completely unaffected by the fact he's only wearing a towel, "How about yo…."

Rose trails off because her brain malfunctions when Scorpius drops his towel. Not the one for his hair. The one for his everything else. And now Rose is just sitting in bed looking at Scorpius' naked butt.

Her brain doesn't function particularly well during the morning in general, let alone when faced with the immaculately sculpted ass of Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy. Rose suddenly forgot what she had been saying.

Scorpius shot her a smirk over his shoulder and raised an accusatory eyebrow at her, "What were you saying Rose?"

Rose shook herself out of her blatant perv-fest and replied eloquently with, "What?"

His smirk grew wider.

"You seem a tad distracted, Darling," he turned and leant back against the dresser, resting his elbows on the top of the furniture as he exposed himself in all his glory. Not a slither of embarrassment to be seen. Rose focused solely on his face, and for that alone she deserved a goddam medal, "Something on your mind?"

His tone was completely free of genuine concern. Rose glared at him. This was relatively uncharted territory – nakedness aside, Rose and Scorpius hadn't ever really flirted with the actual outcome in mind being sex. They'd been swimming in innuendo for years, but it had always taken place under a veil of ' _this is just for fun and not serious at all'_. Things were different now that they were actually allowed to take things further. If Rose thought about it too long it made her breathing speed up and her head hurt, so instead she just decided to pretend like everything was normal. Maybe if she could convince him of that she would also convince herself.

"You're not playing fair," Rose said through gritted teeth, eyes focused on his and no heat in her glare. Scorpius 's voice dropped an octave when he replied.

"Who ever said I was playing?"

Rose's body flushed and she decided something on the spot – she wasn't playing either and they needed to get horizontal as soon as physically possible.

"Get over here," she commanded as she threw back the covers. Scorpius took a small step forward.

"You're not going to ask me nicely?" he teased with a grin.

"I'm not asking at all – it was an order, not a request."

Rose could have sworn she heard him moan.

"So bossy," he was at the foot of the bed and still too far away.

"And you love it."

He placed a knee on the edge of the bed and advanced slowly towards her as his voice dropped low and husky again.

"You're goddam right I do."

Rose wraps her arms around his neck and draws him down to her so she can kiss him. Which she does. At length. Her legs drop open as he nestles himself between them, the feel of his naked hips being braced by her bare legs sending shock waves through her body.

He tugs at the bottom of her loose fitting shirt, "Off. Everything. Off."

Rose had to agree. She unwraps herself from him and lifts her arms up. The look he gives her is purely predatory. Maintaining eye contact, Scorpius sits back on his hunches and places his hands on her hips. He drags them slowly up her body, taking her shirt with him on his way. His hands span her sides, running over her ribs in a way that makes her shiver. He's being deliberately slow and Rose can't decide whether that's a good thing or a bad thing. When he reaches her torso his thumbs run along the underside of her breasts before sliding upwards and taking gratuitous brushes over her nipples. Rose's sharp inhale apparently causes him immense amounts of pleasure because he chuckles deep in his throat and plants a brief kiss on her cheek.

"What happened to Miss. Bossy?" he teases while his hands caress her breasts. Rose closes her eyes and focuses on the feeling, tries to grasp onto reality and rationality with little success.

"She's still here," Rose opens her eyes and tries to sound commanding which is really bloody difficult when he's driving her crazy, "Hurry the fuck up."

Scorpius smiles and gives a subtle shake of his head, "No way in hell. I've waited ten years for this, you can wait a few minutes."

His thumb and forefinger pinch her nipple and Rose lets out an embarrassingly loud gasp as her toes curl and her back arches. He chuckles darkly and continues to lift her shirt.

"I'll let you punish me later," he promises as he pulls the shirt over her head and off her arms, flinging somewhere across the other side of the room. Rose huffs and holds onto the headboard because she gets the distinct impression that he's not going to play nicely.

"Glutton for punishment?" she teases, with a quirk of an eyebrow as she fakes more confidence than she has, "Am I sensing a masochistic streak, Malfoy?"

He chuckles as his hands land on her hips, teasing the waistband of her underwear.

 _Breathe. Must. Keep. Breathing._

"At your hand, Darling?" he lowers his head until his lips are brushing against her stomach in faint, barely-there kisses, "I'd be happy to beg."

And now her mind's flooding with an abundance of possibilities that make it difficult to breathe. Her toes curl again.

"But perhaps," he whispers as he shuffles down the bed, dragging her underwear down inch by inch as he does, "You should beg first."

Oh holy shit she might not be prepared for this. She's coming out of a dry patch, and if Scorpius delivers (as he has been so far) then she might not recover. She'll just be a puddle of happiness and contentment in the middle of his bed. What a eulogy that would make. Rose takes a breath and tries to prepare herself.

Which, evidently, was pointless because the first time she feels his breath on her newly-bared skin she lets out a shudder.

"You ok, Rosie?" he asks, partly teasing, partly genuine concern as his fingers caress the skin behind her knees which have fallen open further to accommodate him.

"Mmhhmm," she gives a sharp nod, "I thought you promised me begging?"

His responding chuckle is dark and full of promise, "All good things to those who wait."

And then she feels his tongue and completely forgets how to breathe.

She doesn't know what to do with her hands, and at various times clutches at the bed sheets, digging her nails into the pillows, or tangling them in his hair. Rose eventually settles on one hand wrapped around the bedhead, one tugging on his hair. She arches off the mattress, panting loudly and lost in feeling. His fingertips caress her inner thigh, his breath is soft and warm at her centre, his tongue draws patterns that rip cries from her throat, and his occasional moan sending shivers down her spine.

Rose is mindless and fidgeting, tightening her grip in his hair and the bedframe, keeps murmuring pointless phrases like ' _yes'_ , ' _oh god',_ and _'Scorpius'_ , until she finally lets go with an embarrassingly loud gasp-moan combo. Her head hits the pillow with a thump (she didn't even notice she'd lifted her head) as she tries to regain her breath. Her fluttered breathing is met with another dark chuckle and movement from somewhere south of the border.

"You good there, Weasley?" he sounds entirely too proud of himself. Although, in his defense, if she ever left Scorpius feeling as boneless and satisfied as Rose was currently then she'd be pretty proud of herself too.

"Yup," she breathes, "I'm just trying to convince myself that actually happened."

He appears in her line of vision above her, suspended on his elbows. "What am I? A figment of your imagination?"

"Maybe," Rose finds the strength to move her arms and drapes them around his shoulders, "It seems possible that I'm dreaming."

His smile is bright and warming, "You're not dreaming. This is real. You're finally here."

"Finally?" she mirrors his smile, "Dream of me here often, Malfoy?"

Scorpius gives her an odd look; like he can't quite comprehend what she's just said, like she's just proudly discovered the sky is blue.

"Of course, Rose," his voice is soft and sincere, "I've been waiting for this to happen for years."

She won't cry. She's about to have sex with Scorpius Malfoy for the first time and she absolutely _will not_ cry. Instead, she places her hand on his cheek and looks him in the eye and she whispers to him.

"Me too."

He smiles at her and everything is alright again and yep, she's definitely not gunna cry. Which is incredibly fortunate because she's sure he'd never let her live it down if she wept during sex. He'd probably include it in their vows:

 _I promise to love you and never make you cry during sex again._

 _Wait a minute. VOWS?!_

 _BACK THE FUCK UP WEASLEY!_

To get herself out of her own head and stop those troublingly wonderful thoughts of wedding vows, Rose takes the opportunity to kiss him some more and get back to the task at hand.

She unfurls one of her arms from around his neck and shoulders, dragging it down his front over his torso. She continues to run down his stomach before grasping his penis where it's erect against his stomach. He lets out a strangled groan and Rose is pretty sure she's never heard anything quite so sexy.

 _I did that_ , she thinks proudly, _I made him make that sound._

It gives her a confidence she's not sure she's ever possessed before.

She moves her hand up and down several times, delights in the varying sounds he makes, before his hand encapsulates her and directs them towards her still-happy lady parts. She gets the hint, lines him up and wraps her arms around him again to brace for what's about to happen.

And just when they're about to get to the good part, something a bit unforeseen happened:

Scorpius freezes.

He's on his arms above her, staring at the bars of his headboard, an odd look of puzzlement on his face.

"What is it?" Rose whispered, worried that he might be having some kind of episode (which was silly, because if he was having some kind of serious medical episode he would probably be collapsed on top of her, not be all rigid). He still doesn't look at her, but he does take a deep breath which is at least a sign his basic functions are still working.

"I just…" he looks her at and Rose is struck once more by just how pretty his eyes are, "We've never gotten this far before."

His eyes pave a meaningful path down their naked bodies to where they're almost joined. His gaze comes back to hers.

"I keep expecting someone to say 'cut'," if he didn't sound so genuine Rose would be tempted to laugh at him. She runs her fingers through his hair, smiles at him gently before kissing him to try to reassure him she's not going anywhere. She says the only thing she knows will calm him down.

"I love you," she says it with a sincerity that cannot be faked. His face lights up with a smile not like any she's ever seen him share with her before. And that's saying something, because he's basically done nothing but smile at her since she got here. His grin turns sly as he lowers himself towards her, shifts his hips so he's just the slightest pressure away from entering her. He kisses her cheek as his mouth makes it's way towards her ear. He takes his earlobe between his lips briefly before shifting to rest his lips on the shell of her ear.

In a breathy whisper he commands, "Say it again."

Rose's toes curl and her lady parts are at attention again, every fibre focused on where they're almost joined.

"I love you-ah!" Rose gasps when he enters her with one smooth, solid thrust. She clutches at his shoulders and sighs heavily, listens to the way his breath sounds slightly labored as he tries to keep himself under control. He sucks on her earlobe again, and yep there's a kink she didn't know she had. His lips run over her neck, speckling her skin with kisses and nips.

"Again." His voice is low and Rose feels her whole body tingling. How have they waited this goddam long to do this?

(He was always a wise-cracking asshole, but Rose never anticipated his voice would ultimately be her downfall in bed. For the record, she isn't complaining.)

"I lov –ah!" he thrusts into her with a groan and Rose gasps at the feeling. Her nails dig into his shoulders.

"Again," comes his one-word response. Another thrust. Rose's toes curl.

"I love you," she says it clearer this time, meets his thrust with an upward movement of her hips and bites her lip to stop from yelling. She lets out a strangled yelp; it only excites him more.

" _Again_."

Rose is mindless as the pressure builds and he finds a rhythm. She sighs again that she loves him, takes pleasure the way he groans and tenses when he hears her words. She wraps her legs around his hips to be able to thrust up with him in better timing. His head hangs over her shoulder, his mouth mindlessly kissing her shoulder and neck as he continues to move inside her. Rose drops one of her hands, places it firmly on his ass to hold while he thrusts. Over, and over, and over.

Speech becomes impossible as they descend into a symphony of gasps and grunts. Rose tugs on his hair and he bites at her shoulder. She is mindless and he is out of control and the last ten years have been building towards this and it is everything she imagined. She rolls her hips and pushes her breasts against his chest to get more friction, a tightness building in her gut as she is propelled towards the edge. Again.

"Scorpius…" she mumbles as a way of warning, her breath hitching. He rocks into her again and she drags her nails down his back. His answering groan is guttural and he thrusts harder.

"I'm-ah!"

A shiver down her spine and her insides flutter as she tithers on the edge.

"Let go," he murmurs into her ear, one of his hands snaking between them to find hit clit and rub it slowly. Rose lets out a cry, "Let go, love."

And that's what does it – a combination of sweet words, rhythmic thrusts, and sneaky fingers – as Rose goes plummeting over the edge with a high-pitched whine, her fingers dig into his skin as she rides it out. He follows her almost immediately, releasing a strangled groan as his thrusting loses rhythm and he spasms atop her.

They lie in a tangle of limbs for several minutes while they both try to recover after reaching such a high. Scorpius has rolled off her, lying in the ruined sheets, his hand holding hers where it sits between them.

"I think that should be a rule," he says with a smile between breaths, "We can only say 'I love you' when we're in bed together."

"But I want to be able to say it all that time…" she turns her head and sees the deviousness come into his smirk and knows that's exactly the comment he was waiting for, "Oh…wow, I can't believe I fell for that."

"Fell for what? All I hear is a very good point – we should stay in bed all the time. Good plan," he rolls over to be lying over her, suspended on his forearms, "I also think a rule should be ' _when in bed, we must be naked. Absolutely no clothes allowed in bed_. "

Rose is about to respond when her stomach lets out an embarrassingly loud rumble. And Scorpius, the lovely asshole that he is, just laughs at her. Loudly. And at length.

"Shut up," she mumbles as she rubs her now aching stomach, "It's past my breakfast time."

"Then we should probably get you some food," he pecks her on the nose and it's so wholesome she doesn't even know how to respond, "I don't want you getting hangry."

Scorpius rolls off her and walks over to the chest of drawers his still-damp towel is lying in front of to retrieve some pants.

"Can I wear something of yours?" Rose asks, trying not to sound too pitiful (and failing), "I don't want to go back to the guest room."

She gets a shirt thrown in her face as a response. Rose grumbles as she pulls it on. They make a fine pair – him in only pants, her in only a shirt. Together they're almost one fully respectable person. They make their way down the stairs, babbling about nothing in particular, holding hands because why the fuck not. They're just discussing what breakfast options Scorpius has when they enter the kitchen.

And see Dusty sitting, very red-faced, at the counter.

"Dusty?" Scorpius says with a smile and Rose has never felt more conscious of the fact she's not wearing underwear, "What are you doing here? I thought I told you you weren't required today?"

Dusty blushes and from where Rose stands in the doorway she thinks he may actually be sweating. Which is weird – it's January for goodness sake.

"Yes, well, um," he's stuttering and wipes sweat from his brow. Rose has never seen the man look so worried, "We had a distress signal call…"

Scorpius looks confused as he walks to the fridge to retrieve a pre-made breakfast of chia seed pots. "Distress? Well I don't know who sent it but we're not distressed."

Rose walks into the room to stand beside Scorpius, across the bench from Dusty. The poor man looks like he's been in the sun for 20 years he's so red. Rose pities him – she knows it well with her Weasley genes.

"It, ah…it was one of the discrete switches…" Dusty starts. He can't look at either of them, "The, ah, the one in the bedhead…"

The one in the bedhead? The bedhead that Rose had been clutching onto for the past hour or so? The one that Rose had been desperately grabbing while Scoprius went down on her? That had a covert button to alert security to emergencies?

Oh fuck.

Just as Rose connects the dots, Scorpus does too. His eyes widen as he looks at his security guard, the faintest blush rising on his usually pale cheeks.

"Are you saying," Scorpius spoke slowly, "That sometime within the last hour, a distress signal was issued from a button on my bedhead being pushed?"

Dusty just nodded, still staring at the bench, "Yes sir. It, ah, it starts recording sound when triggered…"

OH. FUCK.

"WHAT?!" Rose screeches and feels her face set ablaze. Scorpius, the ass, simply laughs. She slaps his arm because that is absolutely not the appropriate response to this situation. She turns her attention back to the blushing hulking mass of man still avoiding eye contact sitting at the counter.

"How much did you hear?!" she demands, mortified beyond words. Dusty flicks his gaze to hers for barely more than a moment. He says only one word.

"Enough."

Rose lets out a sound she could only describe as 'seal slowly dying in a fire' and slides down to the floor in a tangled mess of limbs and misery.

"Why do you even have that?!" she demands from the floor.

"In case someone breaks in," Scorpius shrugs, "Or some medical emergency or some sort. They're all over the place. Forgot about the one in the bed though, I probably should have mentioned that."

" _YOU THINK?!"_

Rose ceases to be capable of even arguing with him about it and instead wallows in self pity and humiliation. Someone heard her make sex noises. Someone had been called because they were 'in distress' during sex. Oh God this was mortifying.

Scorpius is asking more questions of Dusty about general security and the upcoming season, but Rose is too busy focused on trying to erase her existence with the power of her mind to take much notice. Scorpius draws her attention with an exaggerated sound of surprise.

"Oh! Did you hear that Rose?" he says, eyes shining with mischief as he looks down where she lies on the floor, "Lily won the bet!"

"The bet?" Rose doesn't understand but knows form Scorpius' tone alone that she's probably about to be very angry.

"Yes. On us," his face is pulled into a painfully forced smile and Rose feels her blood pressure rising, "And when we'd _finally_ sleep together."

Oh.

Oh how hilarious.

Oh how typically, painfully Lily.

Oh how _hysterically, predictably Lily._

Rose should have known. And now that she did, she had an avenue to release all of her humiliated rage.

Rose had a cousin to call, with the intention of testing whether you could murder someone by screaming at them down a phone line across continents.

* * *

 **Lily**

In light of this, unsurprisingly, the next person to find out is Lily. And Rose isn't too proud to admit that if she'd not called her cousin to rage at her, she probably never would have known.

" _You've been betting on me?!"_ Rose shrieks down the phone. Lily sounds incredibly unbothered and distracted, obviously doing something while she's speaking with Rose.

"Um, yeah, everyone says you're gunna win. Of course I put some money on my favourite cousin to take the Oscar."

 _Ha. Ha. Wrong bet little cousin._

"Oh no, no, no, no," Rose murmurs darkly while she angrily paces the lounge room, pretending that Scorpius and Dusty can't hear her in the adjoining room, "Not that bet. The _other_ bet."

"I don't know what you're talking about…" Lily sounds entirely unconvincing. Rose has been able to pick when Lily's lying since they were in primary school. No way is she wriggling her way out of this.

"Oh you don't?!" Rose's voice goes embarrassingly erratic, "You have _no idea._ So you have no idea that you've been betting on Scorpius and I _sleeping together?! HUH? YOU DON'T KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT THAT?!"_

If Rose was coherent and rational right now, she would recognize that her voice sounded suspiciously like her mother's when she was getting angry at the news. Had she known, Rose would have been proud.

Lily lets out a heavy sigh. Apparently Rose has her attention now.

"Who told you?" she grumbles, "Was it Albus? I bet it was Albus. Drunk Albus gives away everyone's secrets."

Not what Rose wanted to hear.

" _ALBUS IS IN ON IT TOO?!"_

Lily swears. "If it wasn't drunk Albus then who was it?"

Rose has no qualms with dobbing in Dusty – he was part of the bet, he deals with the consequences. Which are, in this case, disgruntled Weasley-Potter girls.

"Dusty," Rose supplies, and does not feel the need to give further details about _that_ revelation came about. There's a long silence at the other end of the line. Rose can basically feel Lily thinking; can almost hear the cogs turning in her head.

"Dusty…?" her cousin murmurs, "Since when do you chat with Dusty?"

Rose realizes too late that she perhaps made a mistake. At her silence, Lily continues.

"Come on Rose," Lily pushes. Rose can hear her arrogantly loud smile in her voice, "Tell me – how did _that_ conversation happen? Hmmmmm? How did you and Dusty _just so happen_ to discuss a bet about you and Scorpius sleeping together while you're hanging out in England? Did it just pop up in conversation? Or did it perhaps come about after certain _revlations_?"

Oh Fuck. _Oh. Fuck._

"I hate you," is all she says in reply. Lily squeals so loudly Rose thinks she might have permanent damage.

"I'M SO HAPPY!" she screams between eloquent 'whoop whoop's.

"Why? Because you won money?" Rose grumbles as she falls onto the couch, too tired and angry to stand.

"What? Because of the-? NO!" Lily exclaims although Rose can still hear that she's smiling, "You daft bint, of course not! Because you and Scorpius are _finally_ together! God it's been _painful_ watching you both from the sidelines for all these years. You're well overdue – we started the bet 10 fucking years ago and had to keep restarting when neither of you got your shit together. Oh god, I'm so relieved."

Lily pauses for a moment and Rose holds her breath.

"Wait," her voice is soft now, delicate and testing, "You two are, you know, together right? Like this isn't just some one-time thing? You are _actually_ going to date, right?"

Lily almost sounds desperate. Rose is tempted to say no, just to spite her, but on the off-chance that Scorpius is listening from the kitchen she thinks it's best to stick to the truth.

"Yes, of course we are," Rose says it like it's no big deal ( _note: it's a big deal_ ), "I'm not going to sleep with him then vanish. This is, you know…the real thing."

"He's The One, isn't he?" Lily gushes, "You love him don't you."

"I'm not discussing this with you right now, I'm still mad."

"But he is right?"

Rose sighs, looks to see if Scorpius is standing in the doorway before she answers (because she's 100% on board but she doesn't want to freak him out by him knowing she'd say as much to her cousin). When she sees the doorway is vacant she feels comfortable enough to continue.

"Yes, he is."

Lily squeals again.

"Now don't go overthinking this," Lily cautions and Rose would be mad at her if it wasn't said with love, "Just let it be. Just let yourself be happy."

That is, somewhat surprisingly, wonderful advice from her cousin.

"I will, Lily," Rose smiles before dropping her voice, "But I'm still gunna kick your ass for making that bet."

* * *

 **Albus**

It's not so much a case of Albus finding out as it is Scorpius finding out Albus knows. The entire exchange happens via text.

Albus [11:28]: _I'm at your apartment. You're not. Can I let myself in?_

Scorpius [11:30]: _In order to do that you would need a key…_

Albus [11:32]: _So what I'm hearing is as long as I have a key it's fine._

Scorpius [11:34]: _No, you breaking into my apartment is not fine._

Albus [11:35]: _It's cute that you pretend you don't want me to have free reign of your apartment_

Scorpius [11:36]: _Just as adorable as having you arrested for breaking and entering. What the fuck are you doing?_

Albus [11:38]: _Making a ham and cheese toastie. You're out of milk. What the fuck are you doing?_

Albus [11:39]: _Or, should I say, WHO the fuck are you doing?_

Scorpius [11:40]: _HOW THE FUCK ARE YOU IN MY APARTMENT?!_

Albus [11:42]: _Don't change the subject, Malfoy._

Scorpius [11:44]: _I'm not – the subject is you breaking into my home_

Albus [11:46]: _I think the subject is you banging my cousin_

Scorpius [11:48]: _That's my girlfriend you're talking about. Don't be so crude._

Albus [11:50]: _Girlfriend? What are you, 12?_

Scorpius [11:52]: _What term would be more suitable, oh wise one?_

Albus [11:55]: _Fiancée_

Scorpius [11:57]: _IT'S BEEN LITERALLY LESS THAN 12 HOURS_

Albus [12:00]: _No, it's been over 10 years. Get your shit together._

Scorpius [12:05]: _Get out of my apartment._

Albus [12:07]: _I've already started printing 'Save the Date' cards. It'll be a fall wedding. Also you're out of ink_

Scorpius [12:09]: _GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY APARTMENT_

Albus [12:12]: _That's no way to talk to your Best Man._

Scorpius doesn't feel the need to tell Rose about that exchange. At least not until she's calmed down. And maybe after she's had some wine. It would be safer that way.

* * *

 **Kitty**

Rose has barely been on US soil for five minutes when the next person finds out. In her defense though, it has nothing to do with her, and everything to do with the other person.

Rose steps off the plane and walks down to meet Kitty on the tarmac. Even from behind her black-as-black sunglasses Rose knows Kitty's assessing her. The pocket-rocket with perfect bangs speaks before Rose has a chance.

"You slept with him didn't you?"

Rose chokes on her own tongue and stutters indignantly as she tries to find an appropriate response. Apparently that was all the response that was required.

"Are you two going public with your relationship?" Kitty follows up with no inflection or apparent interest.

Rose completely ignores the assumption that her and Scorpius are in a relationship just because they slept together. She'd argue but, you know, it was kinda the truth.

"No," she responds, feeling like a child whose been caught with her hand in the cookie jar, "We're going to try and remain discrete as long as possible."

All she gets from her handler is a one word response, "Roger."

Then Kitty turns back to the car, pulls out her phone and starts texting like this wasn't even a big deal. Which was a little insulting to be perfectly honest. Rose follows her, watches as her very few items of luggage get packed into the back of the awaiting car.

"Did you need to know anything else?" Rose asks a little desperately, "Do we need to discuss this with Maxwell."

"Maxwell isn't my client," Kitty says as she opens the door to the car, "If he wants knowledge on you and Scorpius he can get it himself."

Kitty was kind of a incredible. Rose smiles, lets it be, and climbs into the back of the car. During the drive out to her place in Beverley Hills, Kitty talks nothing but business and plans for awards season. All work, no play for Kitty Pham. Rose listens attentively, gives responses when they're required, and otherwise dreams of being back at Neptune Valley.

Kitty deposits Rose at her house and informs her that she'll be picked up early tomorrow to do an interview for some Oscars pre-show entertainment. Rose reluctantly agrees, bids her farewell as she walks into her empty-feeling house. The car isn't even out of the driveway when Rose receives a message from Kitty.

Kitty [13:46]: _Congratulations, I'm very happy for you both_

Rose is tempted to say something along the lines of ' _yes, you seemed ecstatic'_ , but this is the most personal Kitty has been with her since they met all those years ago when Rose started, and that in itself almost makes Rose cry. She finally settles on sending back a simple ' _thanks, it means a lot'_ , because it does.

* * *

 **Hermione (And Ginny)**

Her mother finding out was all kinds of mortifying.

Scorpius was not supposed to be flying back into The States for at least another week. He had, delightfully, decided to surprise her by rocking up early. And, in the spirit of sexiness and breaking gender stereotypes, he had decided to appear on her doorstep, late at night, dressed in nothing but a trench coat.

It was hot and adorable and Rose would have been absolutely onboard with it. Had she not been skyping her mother and Aunt Ginny at the time.

They'd been discussing anything _except_ the upcoming awards season because being the frontrunner for an Oscar after winning the BAFTA and Golden Globe was kind of taking it's toll on Rose. Aunt Ginny was always a lot of fun, and listening to her recount James' forays into public speaking following his appointment to captain of the Chelsea Football Club were incredibly entertaining. Apparently he'd managed to call an opposing team's captain ' _a right tosser'_ and apologized for saying 'tosser' with the eloquent follow up ' _Did I swear? Fuck, sorry mate'._ He always was an entertainer, even if he was a little rough around the edges.

There was a knock at the door, which Rose assumed was security with her ordered take away (she'd been away from her apartment, don't judge her). She carried her tablet with her and set it on a side table in the corridor facing the front door. She liked to keep recording, in case it was someone sinister and her mother needed to phone security and the police. Such was the life of a celebrity. Or just someone living in a metro area of America.

Rose opened the door and almost swore at what was standing on the other side. Scorpius, dressed in a well-fitting black trench coat that came to his knees. Rose never knew she had a thing for guys in long coats but low and behold! When it's Scorpius, she finds it ridiculously attractive. Maybe it's just him.

Stupid perfect genetics.

Rose gratuitously rakes her eyes over him, about to comment something along the lines of ' _what are you doing here?'_ and ' _damn boy you're looking fine'_ , when she notices something peculiar.

"Why aren't you wearing shoes?" she asks, staring at his bare feet.

"Because they would have ruined my big reveal," he says as he struts into her apartment as he undoes the buttons on his coat.

"Big reveal…?" she questions as she closes the door.

She really should have told him her mother was watching. She really should have given him a heads up. Because if Scorpius had known, then he probably wouldn't have dramatically ripped off his coat to reveal he had literally nothing on underneath.

Rose lets out a squeal, as do her mother and aunt. Well, technically, Aunt Ginny yells ' _Ah! Bollocks!'_ but it still counts.

Scorpius is confused by the look of horror on Rose's face and the other voices, and desperately asks what's wrong. Rose's reply is screechy and barely coherent.

"Mum!" she cries, trying to tuck him behind her and shield him from where her tablet is set up on the table.

"What?" Scorpius asked, confused and worried by Rose's reaction.

What a clusterfuck.

"Tablet!" she points at where the tablet sits with her mother and aunt's face staring back at them, "Mum and Aunt Ginny! Skype!"

Scorpius connects the dots when he sees Ginny wave with a smile, while Hermione has covered her eyes with her hands. His face lights up so brightly that he could be part Weasley.

" _Oh fuck!"_

He hurries to hide himself behind Rose, holds her in front of him which is pointless because not only have they already seen everything, but he's also half a foot taller than Rose, and unfortunately can still clearly see the screen. Which means they can see him. And Rose gets the distinct impression that Scorpius wants to be very _not visible_ right now.

She holds her hands behind her, wrapping around his middle as if there's a chance he'll try to escape. Right, because he really wants to spend more time naked in front of her aunt and mother. Rose doesn't know how to break the incredibly awkward silence but, somewhat thankfully, her aunt is clearly where Lily inherited her ability to strike up conversation with anyone from.

"So," Ginny draws out the word with a slightly shocked smile, "You must be Scorpius."

Right. Ginny and Scorpius have never actually met. What an introduction. Scorpius clears his throat and Rose feels him nod.

"Yes ma'am."

He's so tense he's practically turned to marble.

"Oh don't call me ma'am, dear," Ginny chastises with a smile, "You'll make me feel old. Ginny is fine."

He nods, "Right. Nice to meet you….Ginny."

Hermione has finally removed her hands from her eyes and has set her face in a tight smile. She pointedly avoids looking at Scorpius, instead focusing her intense gaze on Rose.

"Rose, dear, do you think we could perhaps _chat_ ," her words are crisp and she is so obviously unsure about how to feel about all of this, " _In private_?"

Oh, so Rose gets to have a conversation with her mother about why she's being naked-manned by Scorpius Malfoy. Oh, yay. What fun.

"Sure," Rose chokes out, "Do you mind looking away while I move to a different room?"

Ginny and Hermione comply and make a dramatic show of covering their eyes. Rose moves to pick up the tablet when Scorpius grabs her hips and turns her to face him. His face is a picture of horror and stress.

"It's fine," she tries to reassure him while reassuring herself, "Everything's fine."

"Your mother just saw me naked," he says in a harsh whisper, "Nothing is _fine_."

She presses a quick kiss to his lips and pats his cheek, a little condescendingly she realizes too late.

"It is, this is fine," she nods in the direction of her lounge room, "Now I'm going to go and have a really uncomfortable conversation with two of the most important women in my life. This is fine. It's fine. Help yourself to anything in the kitchen."

"Such as a knife?" he murmurs as he walks towards the kitchen, picking up his discarded trench coat from where it lies on the floor. She ignores him, picks up her tablet and walks to the adjoining room.

"You can look now," she announces as she sets the tablet on her coffee table. The two women uncover their eyes; Hermione looks apprehensive, Ginny looks totally entertained.

 _She's too much like Lily to be healthy._

They sit in a tense silence, everyone waiting for someone else to speak first. Eventually it's Hermione that does it.

"Honey…" her mother starts with a gentle smile, "Why is Scorpius naked in your apartment?"

Straight to the point. Sharp like a knife. Rose cringes and drags a hand through her knotted hair.

"Well, the thing is, we're, ah, we're kind of, I don't know, _together_?"

Saying they were dating seemed silly – they barely went on any actual dates because they couldn't be seen together in public. And calling him her boyfriend seemed a tad immature. They needed to invent a word for someone in-between.

" _Together_?" Hermione questions, cautiously optimistic, "Like, as more than friends?"

God it was like speaking in code.

"Yeah," Rose affirmed, weirdly self-conscious, "We spent some time together over the holidays and decided we wanted to be more than just friends. So we're dating, I guess?"

"You guess?" Hermione asks, a bit suspicious.

"I know," Rose clarifies before saying the one thing that she knows will seal the deal and get her family off her back, "I love him. And he loves me. And we're really happy."

It's not until the words are out of her mouth that Rose stops to realize they are incredibly true. She's happy, _truly happy_ , and that's a pretty great feeling.

"Embarrassing naked-ness aside," Rose adds with a smile. She sees the way her mother lights up and the weight on her shoulders lifts.

"I'm happy to hear it," Hermione says and Rose is pretty sure she's getting a bit teary, "There was always something with you two. I'm glad it's finally worked out. It's all I ever wanted for you."

Everything is suddenly heavy and Rose feels like she might cry too and that absolutely shouldn't happen. Luckily, Ginny senses it and lightens the mood.

"You could do much worse, Rosie. _Holy cow,_ " Aunty Ginny provided with an exaggerated wink and Rose almost died. She would not be letting Scorpius know that happened. Or maybe she would. Depends how nice he is to her in the near future.

" _Aunty Ginny_ ," Rose groaned.

"Not to objectify anyone," Ginny amends quickly before bursting with a bright smile, "But _god damn._ "

Rose groans into her hands. She does not have the mental or emotional strength to deal with this right now.

"Can we continue this later?" Rose asks from her hands, "I think Scorpius is contemplating ejecting himself into space in the other room."

Hermione lets out one of her melodious, absolutely perfect laughs that Rose never inherited and nods.

"Sure, go mend his ego."

" _That ego doesn't need mending!"_

"Oh, stop it Ginny."

Rose laughs, still completely mortified, and says goodnight. She promises to call them tomorrow to chat more about recent developments. Just as soon as she's sure Scorpius has recovered some of his partly damaged pride.

Rose finds him sitting at the kitchen counter, wrapped tightly in his trench coat and forehead resting on the bench top.

"Stop being dramatic, Casanova," she chastises. His voice is muffles when he responds.

"You mother just saw me naked. I can be as dramatic as I like."

"Yeah," she slides into the seat next to him, "You're never going to live that down."

He turns his head to look up at her under his fringe that's fallen on his face.

"What are the chances that Albus _won't_ be finding out about this?" he asks mournfully. Rose grimaces.

"Slim to none. Aunt Ginny loves a good story."

"Fuck."

"If it helps ease the blow," Rose nudges him and smiles, "She thinks you've got a great ass."

"THAT DOESN'T HELP AT ALL ROSE!"

Rose finally laughs about the whole, horrid situation. This was not how she planned on telling her parents. She planned to discuss with Scorpius when they thought it was appropriate to start telling everyone who hadn't found out for themselves in various ways. That plan, obviously, was completely shot to hell. There really wasn't any other option except to laugh.

Scorpius, evidently, doesn't share her sentiments.

"This isn't funny," he groans, "This is mortifying."

"Scorpius, I hit a hidden switch that broadcast us having sex to your security guard, and now my mother and aunt have seen you naked," she smiles at him, "Maybe we're just not to keep this a secret from them."

"There are some things I'd like to keep secret from everyone," he grumbles, "My penis happens to be one of them."

"What?" she teases, "Poor Kevin got stage fright?"

"Why aren't you consoling me? Your partner is distressed, the least you could do is offer comforting words," he complains.

"Nah," Rose reconciles with a smile, "I'm gunna let you wear this for a while. To make up for not telling me about the switch in the headboard."

"I _forgot_ about the switch in the headboard – it's totally different," he moans.

"Yeah, and if you'd waited a minute before flashing me I would have given you warning about my mum," she shrugged, "We're even, as far as humiliation goes."

"I don't think we're even at all," he grumbles before sitting up, probably just so he can glare at her better. Scorpius looks down at his coat and brushes the fabric forlornly, "I'm never going to be able to wear this again. It's full of bad memories now."

She smirks as he and leans closer.

"You should definitely wear it again," Rose drops her pitch a little, "I'd like to try my hand at taking it off you."

He shoots her a sideways smile, "I guess I could be persuaded."

"Good," Rose pecks him on the lips and smiles. They fall into a companionable silence before Scorpius starts fiddling and pointedly _not_ looking at Rose.

"So," he says tentatively, "Your family all know…"

Rose sighed heavily. It was only fair. Sometimes she hated being fair.

"Sure, call your parents," she sighs with a wave of her hand as she walks towards the freezer, "I'm getting ice-cream to deal with this."

"Get me one too," he says pitifully, "I need to dull my pain with Ben and Jerry's."

"Don't eat too much," Rose flashed him a smirk over her shoulder, "Aunt Ginny will be devastated if you ruin your figure."

Scorpius lets out a whale-moan groan and throws his arms onto the bench again. Rose is never going to let him forget this. And, she'd dare say, Ginny won't either.

* * *

 **Draco and Astoria Malfoy**

His mother answers the phone. He very plainly tells her than he was just calling to let her know that he and Rose are officially a couple.

Astoria bursts into tears.

With his mother being inconsolable and incoherent, Scorpius was forced to speak with his father to explain no, no one died, he's just dating Rose. Draco pauses, a silence filling the great distance between them.

"Rose Wealsey?" he clarifies. Right, because Scorpius has all those _other_ Roses he was regularly in contact with.

"Yes," he answered, "Rose Weasley."

Blissfully, Scorpius can hear the smile in his father's voice when he replies.

"That's wonderful news."

" _I'm so happy!"_ his mother exclaims in the background.

It was relatively painless. Which was a nice change from 20 minutes earlier.

" _We'll have to have her over for tea!"_ his mother cries.

"Yes mother."

" _And we can set up a room for the two of you for when you visit!_ "

"Yes mother."

" _And I can come shopping with her when I'm next in New York!"_

"Sure mum," Scorpius smiles to himself, "That sounds great."

Scorpius sometimes thought his mother missed out on having a large social circle when she married his father. Maybe she can find a great friend in Rose. He can't think of a greater gift he can give his mother. She deserves nothing less than everything she ever wanted.

" _This is just….well, it's just lovely"_

"Yes mother, it's very lovely indeed."

* * *

 **Everyone Else (Including Maxwell)**

She's babbling.

Rose is winning an Oscar and she's babbling like a fool.

She's holding a tiny golden man that has her name on it and Rose can't think straight to save herself. She really should have written her speech down.

 _Think Rose, think think think think think think think_

 _IMPORTANT PEOPLE! PEOPLE YOU LOVE! YOU HAVE TO THANK THE PEOPLE YOU LOVE!_

"To my family – you are the reason I'm here today, you keep me going in my darkest days and for that I cannot thank you enough!"

 _Other people you love. People you admire. The crew. Nope, did the crew. The designer who sewed me into this dress. No, don't be a cliché. Think, think think!_

And then Rose stops thinking. Instead she just looks out over the podium and sees her blonde-haired beacon shining brightly with a smile that's breaking his face. Her words come out without her even thinking about them. He smiles through them, says ' _I love you'_ to her in sign language and she smiles wider. Then she moves on to thank the nominees and walks off stage crying happy-tears.

She can't recall exactly what she said, but she supposes it doesn't matter. She can watch it back on the news.

* * *

" _And to my partner in crime, my professional ally, Scorpius I cannot say all the ways or reasons that I am thankful for you. You make me a better actor, but more importantly a better person, and I could not imagine this journey without you. You are my best friend – the love of my life – and now we can put our matching Oscars in the bathroom together."_

Scorpius is very confident Rose doesn't realize what she's said or confessed to. He's very confident she didn't realize the roar of the crowd, or how everyone looked shocked (but then again, not shocked at all) when she revealed their relationship. He signs to her, feels himself crying too, and continues to clap as she walks off stage.

"HOLY SHIT!" comes the exclamation beside him as someone hits him repeatedly on the arm. It's Alice Abbott, Neville Longbottom's daughter who's accompanying her father as his plus one to the event. She's in her early twenties and Scorpius suspects, given the questions she asked him and Rose, might be a bit of a 'Scorose' fan.

"DID SHE JUST-? ARE YOU GUYS-?" the poor girl can't even form full sentences. Scorpius, feeling more charitable than any other time in his life, decides to put her out of her misery.

"Yes," he's still smiling like a fool, but he can see Maxwell running down the aisle to come and retrieve him, "Like she said, she is the love of my life."

* * *

Rose is backstage being told where she has to go and get official photos and give speeches and talk abut the fact that _HELLO SHE IS HOLDING A LITTLE GOLDEN MAN BECAUSE SHE WON AN OSCAR_.

People are talking to her about damage control and she doesn't understand why or what's been damaged and why it needs to be controlled. She can't focus on a damn thing right now because she just achieved a life-long dream and she has no idea what she's supposed to do or say to anyone. Kitty is barking orders at people, organisers are trying to tug her this way and that, and there's publicists on the phone. Rose doesn't really take it in. She's too busy re-reading her name at the base of the statue.

" _WHAT THE FUCK JUST HAPPENED?!"_ Maxwell screams as he strides across the backstage area towards them. Scorpius is close behind, beaming at her with one of his brightest smiles. This is perfect. This moment is perfect. Except for all this damage control business.

"Did you know?!" Maxwell points at Kitty, eyes enraged and nostrils flaring.

"Yes," Kitty's response is completely devoid of any emotion or inflection. It just seems to enrage the man further.

" _AND YOU DIDN'T THINK IT WAS SOMETHING I SHOULD BE FUCKING AWARE OF?!"_

Kitty gives a tiny shrug of her pointed shoulders, "You're not on my payroll. You're not privy to my privileges."

Goddam Kitty was a fearless badass. Maxwell looked close to physically assaulting someone but knew better than pick Kitty; she would beat him, no question. Instead he rips out his phone and aggressively dials someone else to swear at about this cock-up.

Rose still isn't entirely sure what happened. All she knows is Scorpius Malfoy is standing in front of her and she's holding an Oscar and everything is perfect. He snakes his arm around her waist and pulls her closer. She goes with little resistance, smiling at him as she glides her non-Oscar hand up his arm to rest at his shoulder.

"Congratulations," he says with a smile and a kiss on her cheek, "I'm so proud of you."

"Thanks. But I thought we had agreed to be discrete," she murmurs. The grin he gives her is feral.

"If you wanted me to be discrete you shouldn't have worn that dress," Rose is deeply regretting the choice to wear an emerald green dress with a cut-out back when his fingers dance across her skin. They shouldn't be doing this here. There are cameras. There are witnesses.

He runs a knuckle along the skin at the base of her back.

Once, Rose had one fuck. And that fuck is gone.

"This old thing?" she leans in, he holds her tighter.

"It's _green_ ," he drags the word out as he looks down at her body, "My favourite colour."

Rose smiles, "I know."

"Just more proof that the Friendship Quiz worked."

She laughs at him and feels some of the anxiousness leave her body. Rose thinks that's the most tangible proof she has that they're meant to be – he can relax her with a few short words. It's like he's magic.

"We should stop," she says with a smile and a glance at her lips, "People will talk."

" _OH THEY'LL BE TALKING ALRIGHT!"_ Maxwell announces angrily, "After that _charming_ little speech of yours we won't be able to shut the fuckers up!"

Rose is confused. She turns to Scorpius for clarification, "Did I screw up?"

"No," he answers with a smile at the same time Maxwell shouts, " _YES!"_

Kitty, as always, is the voice of reason.

"You just announced that Scorpius was the love of your life," she says as emotionlessly as ever, "People are going to want to ask some follow up questions."

There was putting it delicately, and then there was putting it like Kitty Pham did – only facts, not fluffy stuff. Rose's eyes widen in horror at the realization of what's just happened. Two months of practiced discretion and she went and announced that they were dating to an international audience. God she felt like an idiot.

"What should we do?" she turns to Scorpius because she is completely unable to think right now because SHE JUST WON AN OSCAR.

Scorpius is still smiling at her. She will never get sick of that smile. She wants to just stop and look at him. And her Oscar. Maybe she can get a mock-Oscar made up to look like Scorpius. That would probably be creepy. But also hilarious. She will start asking some questions.

Wait, questions. She's just asked a question. She's not sure if he's answered her yet.

Scorpius takes her hand and looks more carefree than ever, "You do whatever you like Rosie. This is _your_ moment, not ours. You have this and do with it what you will."

It's moments like this that Rose remembers exactly why she loves him.

There's a commotion behind them and Albus and Lily come barreling towards them, Lily in a beautiful couture gown, Albus looking the most dressed up he ever has in his life in his red velvet tuxedo.

"How did you two score an invite?" Scorpius asks, mainly to Albus. All he does in response is shrug.

"I get into places," is the only explanation anyone receives on the matter.

"What's the plan?" Lily asks, looking frantic and excited all at once as she whips out her phone and starts typing furiously.

"I…ah…I'm not sure," Rose says, looking at the crowd of people gathered around her. This is not how she imagined this moment being. She imagined champagne and cheers, not frantic phone calls and profanity.

"We need her in the press room," one of the organisers says sternly. Maxwell looks at them like they've just murdered his first born in front of him.

" _She will be there when she's fucking ready,"_ his voice is cold and the organizer is clearly torn between being terrified and asserting dominance, " _She's the greatest actress in the world right now. They will fucking wait."_

That was the first time Maxwell had ever stood up for her. It's kind of awe-inspiring to be on the opposite side of him – to be someone he's defending rather than someone he's attacking. It's stunning and scary all at once. The organizer eventually tells them they have five more minutes.

"So?" Lily demands, drawing Rose's attention, "What are you going to say?"

Rose looks at everyone around her – her little professional family – and feels so overcome with love and support that she gets a little faint.

"I'm not sure," she turns to Scorpius and gives him a bright smile, "I think I'm just gunna wing it."

(Somewhere in the background Maxwell yells " _OH YEAH, BECAUSE THAT WORKED FUCKING BRILLIANTLY LAST TIME!"_ Everyone ignores him.)

Scorpius returns her smile and rubs a circle on her back with his thumb. It's soothingly hypnotic.

"You do whatever the hell you want, Rose," he grins and shrugs, "You just won a fucking Oscar."

"Yeah," she beams as the realization hits her again, "I did. I can do this."

"You can do this!" Lily yells while pumping her fist in the air. Rose gives another look to her little adopted family – at Scorpius holding her close, Kitty looking on impassively, Albus dazedly scanning the room, Lily bursting with excitement, and Maxwell aggressively texting. She had all these wonderful, eclectic, amazing people in her corner and on her side. She could do this.

"Right," she calls back the organizer, "Where's the press room?"

* * *

Rose steps out to stand before the press, hands shaking from nerves. She's so nervous she wants to vomit, but she hasn't eaten anything all day so there's nothing to throw up. At least she can't power-spew on the press. That's a good thing. She guesses.

Rose clears her throat and addresses the flock of people resembling pigeons all calling her name and asking questions, wanting to steal a piece of her to keep for themselves to sell their papers.

"After my little speech out there, I guess you have some questions involving my co-star, Scorpius Malfoy," she starts nervously and the crowd roars with more questions and shouts. She straightens her shoulders and projects an air of confidence, "I'm only going to make one short statement on the matter, and will not be taking any further questions about it so get ready to take notes."

She takes a breath as the room quiets with anticipation.

"The truth of the matter is that we have a wonderful and very close professional relationship," she tells them, hands shaking where they grip her little golden idol in her hands. It is the truth, she hasn't lied yet, but she feels like she's probably going to. Rose doesn't look at Scorpius where he stands just off the stage, too afraid that looking at him will give her away; instead she stares into the blinding camera flashes and waving silhouettes.

 _They'll never stop asking. Especially not now. They'll keep demanding answers that you can give but are choosing not to. They'll hound you even more. You'll never be free. Not unless you open the cage yourself._

Rose is sick of the charade. She is sick of not being able to hold his hand in public. She's sick of not being able to post a photo on her social media accounts that might give away that they're at the same destination. She's sick of not being able to sleep in his bed because the paparazzi are hanging around and it's too risky to be at his home.

Rose is finally allowed to call Scorpius Malfoy hers, and she's going to do so as often as she's able to.

* * *

Scorpius saw the look on her face and knew what was coming.

It was the one Rose used to give him when they would argue at school. The one she would throw at him when he was being an ass on set. The one she gave Rita Skeeter during that interview a million years ago.

It has a simple message – _You started this fight, but I will end it. Fuck not with me._

It's determination and force. She will not be walked over, no matter how hard they try. She has something to say and she's going to say it regardless of their attempts to silence her

Scorpius smiles with pride.

 _That's his girl._

* * *

 _Discretion be damned._

"And recently, that professional relationship developed into something else," Rose continued quickly, speaking over the top of gasps and cheers, "We have been best friends for many years, but recently – very recently, a few months, in fact – we realized that we wanted to try being more than that. So that's what we're doing; we're giving it a shot. Hopefully we'll make it."

She hazards a glance to the side of the stage. Lily is crying, Albus is eating ( _seriously where did he even find that food?_ ), and Scorpius is looking at her in awe. It's enough to give her strength to continue.

"Just between us," Rose says as she turns back to the crowd, "I think we've got a pretty good shot. That's all I'll say about that. Now, who has a questions about _Life in Colour_?"

* * *

They ask her about their relationship regardless of her demands, but Rose answers with the same grace and humility she's had for years. She smiles at them, reminds them of the conditions, gives them an option to ask a different question, and then moves on. They eventually catch on, but Scorpius is still sure that's all either of them will be asked about for at least the next six months. It's going to be a bumpy ride. But if it's the price he has to pay to finally be with Rose Weasley, he'll happily take it on.

When she walks off the stage – in her glittering green dress that does t _hings_ to him – Scorpius can think of nothing more suitable than to wrap her up and kiss her senseless.

Which he does.

Because he can do that now.

Because they're together.

When they pull apart she apologises.

"Sorry I out-ed us."

"Darling, I'm not sure I was ever _in_."

"So we're good?"

"No Rose – we're great."

* * *

 **The Fandom:**

After the press conference airs, the fandom explodes with equal measures of excitement and apprehension.

 _Scorosefan1999 – Is this real? IS THIS FUCKING REAL?!_

 _AliandEliOTP101 – IF THIS IS A HOAX I WILL KILL EVERYONE. WITH FIRE._

 _ScorosetherealMVP – THEY'RE FUCKING DATING. I CAN'T. I. CAN. NOT. EVEN. I AM DONE. D - U - N. DONE._

 _Scorosefan995 - OTOIH PIURFH'WOERU8923YHIOERNG;WQ7E8TG23IURBNSLEJObqs;lm *explodes in happiness*_

 _Titanicwouldnthavesunkifitwasmadeofscorose: guys I'm crying. I am actually weeping. The unsinkable ship just got out of the fucking water and flew #Iwontgodownwiththisship #becausethisshipfuckingflies_

 _SM4RGW4LYF: OK NOW JUST HAVE BEAUTIFUL BABIES AND THE WORLD WILL BE AT PEACE. DO IT FOR PEACE SCOROSE. HAVE THOSE BABIES FOR THE GREATER GOOD_

 _IwillkneelforScorpiusFuckingMalfoy: Ok, so no joke, I was having a fucking horrible day but this...this is just perfect. Faith in all human restored. The world's just a better place today. Now if anyone needs me, I'll just be dying in a pool of my own happy tears._

 _Wellhydratedlipscommittee: I don't wanna be 'that person' but are we sure it's real? Like, they're not just joking._

 _JusticeforOskarandTabitha: if this is a joke ITS NOT VERY FUNNY._

Backstage after the press conference, Lily Luna Potter grins like a madman as she types on her phone. Logged into one of her many Tumblr accounts (this one with the moniker _KingdomofScorose101_ ), she uploads a photo she snapped backstage. It's of Rose as she's just come off the stage after the press conference, wrapped up in Scorpius' arms while he kisses her. Rose is visibly smiling. It's one of the most romantic photos Lily has ever seen, and for that reason alone everyone deserves to see it (she'll apologise for it later).

Lily accompanies the photo with one simple caption:

 _KingdomofScorose101: It's canon, bitches._

* * *

 _A/N - Well, I missed my Christmas Day aim, but I made it in time for New Years at least. I really hope you liked it. This is my biggest finished fic. It would mean the world if you dropped me a review. Wishing everyone happiness and safety in the new year._

 _All my love,_

 _Grae._


End file.
